Sunday, August 28, 2011

Blow Myself Away

Hurricane Irene was a little bit of a let down - some late night gusting had me edgy for my windows, but New York made it out only slightly waterlogged. Everyone I know is safe, and now my hometown is waiting for the battering to be over.

Hurricane Harley, however, is another story.


I've had a melodramatic, confusing couple of days. I feel like all the stress of the past few weeks has just been bubbling up and bubbling up and in one, fell, disastrous swoop, it all came to a peak and forced me to sit down and examine what's going on in my head and my life.

Trying too hard to fix something has the distinct probability of only making things worse - I've never gone wrong letting life play out, and I should keep that in mind, from now on. That doesn't mean letting everything happen passively, hell no, but it means trusting where I'm going a little more than I have been.

Doing my first work out session in probably over a month. My body is aching for movement, for release. The joys of a yoga ball - simple happiness in plastic rubber sticking to my humid skin and my muscles burning. I'm going to work out until I can't think, and then I'm going to eat lunch, shower, and possibly investigate the streets of the Village to see what it's like, post-storm. It's like investigating myself, after Hurricane Harley has passed over.

My theatrical passion is, in fact, a metaphor for my own life, methinks. Trying so hard to force a mask to fit, to squeeze into a personality, it just looks false and ends badly. Peeling off layers is gentler, more freeing, and far closer to the truth.

Let's straighten up, Harlequin baby. One more year at NYU and then you're a real person, with a piece of paper that says so and everything! We have to make it worth it.

Love to you.

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