The Revolution Will Be Staged.
This is a long overdue clearing of the mind. My apologies for the self-indulgence.
I am not a rule-follower.
That is an outright lie. I don't want to be a rule-follower, but I so totally am. And though I sometimes go the opposite route of those around me and of mainstream society, I do so by holding steadfast to rules I've established for myself. I didn't have a sip of alcohol all throughout high school. I saw what drugs and alcohol were doing to (a very small number of) my friends, and I didn't want to end up in that downward spiral, so I made a big statement about being straight-edge. Looking back now, I both admire the girl I was for being so responsible at that age, and despise her for robbing me of any and all sorely needed teen-age rebellion. I gave up meat cold...tofurky at age thirteen, and I haven't broken that rule once, not intentionally. There are many, many more examples that up until recently have governed my life.
I hate labels.
Everyone likes to say this, but the fact of the matter is, our entire world is set up around labels. I've earned my share of them just like everyone else. If I wanted to tell you about myself, what would I say? I'm a vegetarian. I'm a lesbian. I'm a liberal pacifist. I'm (relatively) agnostic. I'm a senior (jeesh...that's a whole other blog) at ODU, studying acting and theatre education. I'm a waitress. Even, occasionally, I'm a libra...on the cusp of scorpio.
I am not an emotional person.
That's a ridiculous statement. Of course I'm an emotional person, but I don't show that emotion to others very often. I swallow anger and I cry alone. I have more than once been admired for my rationality, emotional stability, patience, ability to keep my composure in any situation, good nature and overall sweetness. It takes a special brand of person to see me as more than that, and I thank the ones that do.
I am an actor.
That one is true and ay, there's the fucking rub. It is twice the challenge to access the deep, dark places of yourself when you so rarely take the trip in real life. I'll be honest, when I first began with Montressor, I felt like Ned Flanders taking on the role of Hannibal Lecter.
"I...golly...ate his dang-doodly liver with some scrum-diddly-umptious fava beanerinos and an okily-dokily chianti-ly! Deeeee-lish!"
I've come a long way. I can go much further.
It's time for some good ole-fashion pride swallowin'.
I think we work hard to seem sure of ourselves. To survive in this world, you need confidence. A lot of mine is genuine. Some of it is embellished. To take a stand, for or against something, you need a bit of embellishment so people will take you seriously. The real confidence comes after the statement is made and, despite any opposition, you're still standing strong. But what happens after the storm calms? Maybe when you take the boards off the windows, you notice the view has changed. Maybe it's the same view, but you've changed. Either way, can you bring yourself to pack up and move away from the place you just weathered the storm inside? If I move away from my rules, from my labels, from my passivity, from my comfort zone, will there be enough left of me to survive?
Yes.
Life is so strange. I needed all of those things, those crutches, to earn the confidence to leave them behind and just be myself. My danger lies, Nancy, in this abandonment. Now that I'm strong enough to handle it, I need to organize a full revolt against myself. I need to let go.
you'll never be a first class human being or a first class woman until you've learned to have some regard for human frailty you're so cool and fine and always so much your own there's a kind of beautiful purity about you Tracy like like a statue hello you hello you look fine I feel fine you've got fires banked down in you hearth-fires and holocausts I don't seem to you made of bronze no you're made out of flesh and blood that's the blank unholy surprise of it you're the golden girl Tracey full of life and warmth and delight shut up shut up oh Mike keep talking keep talking talk will you golly golly moses it's as if my insteps were melting away what is it have I got feet of clay or something put me in your pocket Mike I'm going crazy I'm standing here solidly on my own two hands and going crazy don't say anything and especially not darling do you know how I feel like a human like a human being