I want so badly to write/journal/blog about something other than school or work. The only things I can think of though, are small and insignificant. For example: I have in just the past few days re-acquanited myself with dark eye make-up. It seems in my life I’ve gone through phases where I’ll do the heavy shadow, then not, then do it, then do just liner and mascara, just mascara – and out of pure laziness, I’ll go bare face. I feel better if I have SOMETHING on, but that’s not to say I feel bad if I don’t. I just…feel better IF I do. See that bit there? That’s my logic class coming out. It’s going to haunt me forever now – but NO, I refuse to make this about school. This will be about stupid eyeshadow!! It’s not stupid. It’s wonderful. Tonight I sported black and gold, with my new Nars gloss. YayDay! or Win!

hmmm, that’s all I’ve got – see that wasn’t anything, it’s not even a real paragraph about anything. Remember “Toy Talk,” and my mini blog series? Why can’t a muse visit it me for those? Why can’t I have any ideas, at random or in some kind of order that will allow me to get the excess thoughts from my brain to this page? I think the problem is similar to one I’ve had before…The last time I felt like this I introduced “Nobody Reads This” a series of ten chapters, and I use the word “chapter” loosely, but I wrote in a way that was more honest because I was keeping in mind that it as just for me, that nobody was going to read it. Granted, people read it – but it was freeing. I need that kind of freedom again. I touched upon the ideas again when introducing the new series “To Be Determined” which only houses two chapters currently, and I’d love to dive into a third chapter, but nothing is …coming ..to mind. Nothing terribly exciting. Nothing terribly happy or sad. Just…life. And although my life is not busy, per se, with seeing things of this city, or experiencing what’s “really” out here. I’m busy with work, school and homework. Other than that I go out with Ro once every so often and leave it all behind for a girls outing that I decide I deserve, even though I probably really don’t. (shrug).

Right this second I’m not homesick, but as holidays get closer, I know it will be the hardest Christmas I’ve yet experienced. I know I will ache for my siblings and our family traditions. I know I will miss seeing my friends and their spouses and kids. It hit me hard when I found out I couldn’t get the time off work, then it subsided, and until the realization hits me again, I’m safe.

Safe.

What does that even mean nowadays? Moral safety? Ethically safe? Physically safe? Mentally? Emotionally? There is a person in me I refer to as “the actor in me.” I want to stop doing that. It separates me too much, and I want to be connected – to every piece of me. So, as an actor – that’s safe… I don’t take nearly as many risks as I’d like, or as I should. I’m an excellent observer – that doesn’t make me a good actor. I will sit and try to analyze something and try to make the right choice. Then i’ll make a decision with high expectations, and then get shot down and feel defeated because I made the apparent “wrong” choice. When in fact, it wasn’t right or wrong, it was just “a” choice, and there are stronger choices, weaker choices, hard choices, easy choices, safe choices….

Safe.

Is safe like hiding? Do I choose to separate myself into pieces because it is safe? or because I’m hiding? Is either a stronger choice? Is either a weaker choice?

Over the past few weeks I’ve developed and decided on the personality of someone else in my life. Why would I do that? Why wouldn’t I just learn about that person? Well, it’s because that person is not accessible to me. That person is just out of reach from me, and until that changes I’m left only with the safety of my thoughts and ideas about this person. A big problem in doing something like that is what I think up becomes, in a sense, the reality to me – of this person. The person I’ve created is not real, the person outside my grasp is real – how are they the same person. They’re not. How can I make them be? I can’t. I will continue to hide within the safe confines and boundaries of my little world of work, school and homework, and when the time comes I’ll step outside those boundaries and see what’s really there. Is that the best choice? Is that the right or wrong choice?

Are the choices I make shaped or formed based on what I have decided is safe? Do I cling to this relative safety because it keeps everything out, or because it keeps me in?

Safe.

I feel safe when I’m with my close friends.
I feel safe when I’m with my mother, or father, or siblings.
I feel safe when I’m indoors and it’s pouring rain outdoors.
I feel safe when I wear make up
I feel safe when I’m fully clothed
I feel safe when I walk home in the daylight

When am I safe, but don’t feel safe?

I don’t feel safe when I’m acting.

I have defined acting in so many ways over my life as I’ve learned more about it, learned more about myself, and experienced life more. Acting was a place to become someone else. Tell someone else’s story, other than mine. What happens when the stories cross paths? How am I to not tell my story, and tell the characters story? Acting was a place to tell someone else’s truth. How do I tell their truth, and hide mine. Acting was a place of vulnerability – and up until today, I hid mine. I hid mine, because it felt safe to do so. I hid mine because I was convinced that the character could be vulnerable without me. That if I used the language enough, the point would be made. But the character is human, just like me. The character has strengths, weaknesses and wants to make choices. The character is as complex as any other human being, and the only other question I can now think of is, why would I cheat another person out of getting what they want because I’m not willing to invest in what they have to say? I don’t even give myself the chance to BE safe, BECAUSE I’m hiding.

When am I hiding, but feeling safe?
When am I safe and hiding?
When am I safe, but hiding?
When is it safe to hide?

Someone important to me recently said “This person is counting on you to act, because you are the actress – don’t act, be yourself”

When am I acting but not myself?

When am I myself and not acting?

When is it safe to be myself?
When is it safe to act?
When is it safe to hide myself?
When am I hiding myself for safety?

Safe.
Hide.

I will stop hiding, when I feel safe.