Costume Department

Excerpt from one of my Dramatic Narratives

I cannot define the method of my ways, nor of the moments that truly define the reasons for my existence. The weight of the past and the burden of emotions that I cannot shake continue even at this age to define my walk. Emotionally I feel spent, torn away from the realty of the present, like a stage performance over-played and undersold, I walk through each day defining the expectations of others only to continually sacrifice the time that I have left for those who could barely discern that I was wearing a costume at all. I cannot shake the moments where I truly felt alive and embraced by those who really tried to know me, tried to understand the mysteries of the man behind the madness that each day brings forth. There were those who held onto me with a true heart of compassion and love, those days are just not with me any longer. Their fingerprints long lifted from the crime scene of my life.

For those who tried to bear the brunt of my sadness and revelled in the joy of my lost soul buried in the short-lived happiness that was my own thoughts, I thank you.
I cannot erase the images of your face away from the constant knowledge that I was as close to keeping you near as I ever was in releasing you to the world. I knew what cards I needed to play, I just could not afford to cash in your soul in exchange for my petty happiness. I have never been good at maintaining the moment, nor watering the gardens of souls that I know in the end I will either drive away to protect or tragically attempt to retain for my own disparity.

Perhaps, I know, secretly, that I am not worth the attention, nor the sacrifice. I adore the darkness, always believing that the truth lives in that place. For when the dawn breaks, the sun will continually shadow the reality of life and perhaps bring enlightenment to areas that condemn that enhancement of character. We have all been taught that light brings truth, but the harshness of its power can indeed overshadow the beauty, simplicity and even altruistic nature of life itself. Seeing things for what they are, being allowed to self-illuminate --- that is how you are able to ever shine.

I am not sure when I last believed in myself and the promise that I could shake the struggles of holding onto something that continues to cloud my steps. Like a strange, but living apparition --- I am confused and dismayed that I am still here haunting myself in this house of emptiness and greed. There must be a calling, my own personal Paul Revere being summoned with my orders, my commandments? I sit here from a different era, an old soul trying to hit replay in a world that has long admonished the history of its own past, much less the simplicity of my message.

For now, I must continue to push onward. I hear the director calling, "Performance begins in 5" --- Exiting stage left, I head to the costume department. Content at least in this moment, that this show is not over, my final performance still undone...