Baggage

My parents found duffel bags they like for me. In other news, figurative baggage:

I started my playwriting workshop today, and I have to say, I'm not surprised with the result. I'm back at home reading and rereading my work from today and basically saying, "are we five, Marek?" Basically, everything seems so childish, so elementary, so disgustingly obvious. So didactic, so preachy, so dumb. And, of course, so disappointing. I've always struggled with my self-esteem. Anyone who knows me is probably reading that last sentence and going "no shit, Sherlock". But I think my self-consciousness likes to rear its ugly head the most in the theatrical world. I've always wanted to be a part of that whole "theatre cult", you know, the people who eat, breathe, and drink theatre, act in twelve shows a year, write three musicals a day, and hit broadway by age 24. I mean, come on, who hasn't dreamed of that at some point? Ever since I saw my cousin Lyssa star in a musical in high school, I knew that was something I had to do. But, like so many other stories in my life, for one reason or another I didn't take any action. I didn't do anything to aid my pipe dream of starring in that musical. Be it nerves, mental illness, or what have you, I just let my interests wane.

The one place everyone always told me I excelled was writing. So, somewhere along the line, I started writing in script format. The style suited me, since I loathed poets, but didn't have the lengthy descriptive capabilities of prose. I've had success with this. I've been published, I've been chosen for festivals, I've won scholarships...yet to be honest, none of it seems good enough. Like, ever. And I know why: it's because I never quite bridged the gap between "me" and "them". No matter what I do, my work seems inferior because I know (and I'm pretty sure "they" know) that I am not and probably will never be a "theatre kid". I can't help it. I'm not artsy, though I love to participate in the arts. I'm not a hipster, or a goth, or an emo, which unfortunately are not stereotypes if they're true. I'm shy, not insufferably outgoing, not unless special circumstances are involved. In terms of that special theatrical soul, I'll be the first to admit that I just haven't "got it".

I want to run away from the workshop very badly right now because I feel like a flamingo wobbling through a murder of crows. How ridiculous must I look? How long can I keep this play going before my peers notice that I'm not even close to one of them? And how long can I seriously expect to get away with my charade? The fact is, to be a professional dancer, you need to have been dancing for nearly your whole life. To be a playwright, shouldn't I have been seeing plays and drinking theatre? And really...shouldn't I WANT to? Because I don't. It'll just make me feel worse than I already do.

So what did this have to do with SAS? Nothing much. But it's my blog, my rules, and I needed to get that off my chest. So yeah. There you go.