I am going to be very honest with you. Sometimes I don’t understand what the story of my life is all about. The plot is so twisted it’s almost equivocal. It gets worse when I don’t know the role I should be playing. The lead star? Well, I feel like an audience right now, sitted next to you who’s reading and from the cringe on your face we can both agree that this show is pretty shoddy.
On some days I feel like a soldier in the field waiting for a curtain call from the headquarters, but the intercom is condemned to eternal silence.
So I am a decorated field officer, trained to catch bad people in a world where bad people don’t exist, you feel me? Wait, are we still talking about the story of my life? Yes.
A good friend of mine called it ‘looking for a life’s manual’. Are there such books that have our entire life’s schedule drawn on them, explaining what buttons to press to make things go our way and a troubleshooting page in the end? You may jump in to say the Bible. No, lol. I disagree without a better answer of course.
What are we doing here again? Living. Yeah right. And how are we- am I (sorry for dragging you in) supposed to do that? Because I know how to breath blink and eat but it still doesn’t feel like living. How am I supposed to get good grades, drive a good SUV,
make good films, write great books, compose good music, treat people and animals right, be a good daughter, a great mother, a good wife? Good ,great right, mere English words but are deathly contraptions. Walking to work everyday of my life doesn’t sound like a better option either, in a world people strive to thrive and survive. I have seen people get good rewards after making great moves. But everytime one side of my brain remembers that the other side is into this good great and right thingie, I start feeling like I am stuck between a rock and a hard place.
Now this is the best part. When I am doing nothing, absolutely nada (hakuna, Nichts, gútire). I have not even dreamt flying a plane, I haven’t desired Lupita’s Oscar, I haven’t longed to meet the love of my life in a books store or even desired to celebrate Christmas in Melbourne.
This is the time the stupid feeling of inadequacy crawls in and rests in my stomach like a demon. ( A pastor once told me that demons and all sorts of spirits live in the stomach. That’s why possessed people puke during exorcism). Out of topic again but I thought you should know. The inadequacy that makes you walk into an interview feeling unqualified and you walk out feeling like a complete ignoramus because you didn’t even get the job. The kind that makes you go to an audition all your muscles tense and you walk out feeling like a paralytic because you didn’t just not get three stars, Simon also told you that you are the worst Singer in the world.
It makes you feel uncomfortable in your own skin -those are the times you fear that your teeth might bite your tongue and start sleeping with your tongue out. Then wake up with a very dry mouth and feeling like an idiot, because you are actually one.
It is a weird show. No script, no director and one actor who gets tired of being on stage and goes to sit in the audience. Constantly whispering to neighbours how the set is poorly designed and asking them who on Earth has such bad taste. Then their teeth finally bite their tongue when life’s demand to do good, great and right shouts in their ears that whatever they are saying is wrong.
That’s my show and I am the actor standing at the end of a cliff with a sword on my neck.