Sometimes life is cruel
And Sometimes i wonder what good is passion, without the substance and talent.
Its cruel..and torturous how much passion i have inside of me to act..and to sing. I really love acting and singing..but its sad because i will always be mediocre..
Sometimes i try harder, but its true..if u wanna perform..u can only be the best. There is no space of mediocre.
And its like i love the stage..but i have stage fright..Oh the irony of it all? such a strange paradox..
But i wanna be better then myself, but sometimes circumstances don't allow it.
How can i love something so much..but so unable to fufil a dream...its painful. SOme people spend a life time wondering what they love..and where their passion lies..but i already know, but yet i am forever seperated from it by a deep chasm..and irreparable gap..that will never meet.
And sometimes i feel like a souless creature plodding aimlessly through the thick malicious thickets..in this forest called life. A trecherous journey sometimes, i must say.
i love theatre and i love the stage.
question is..was it made for me?
And I spent half my life time dreaming about literature.. Oh the thrill i used to feel just reading books..and dissecting the passages one by one! The Glee i felt when i spotted the hidden meanings..and the extreme pleasure i felt when i discovered the deep symbols..like gems and hidden lovingly inside the book! Oh..i thought from the first day i opened my lit book and discovered the extreme joys of lit, and felt a kind of passion i could never for another subject. And from that day..i knew i was going to do literature all the way to university.
So the years went pass..and saw the through..i never got anything less then an A1 for lit. I demanded perfection in my essays..and easily topped the class. i felt good..coz at least i knew my passion was rewarded with talent.
Now years down the road. Here i am in univeristy. Living out a dream. I am living the life i knew i would live since sec one. I am doing what i thought i loved all my life. But then suddenly..as i am in university now..i am struck with seeds of doubt. Is this really what i love?
Was i doing literature my whole life ONLY because i was good at it...and not coz i liked it? This cannot be..but somehow as i entered uni..and started on the literature causes..to my dismay..i find my love of literature slipping out of the window. And i am scared. And panicking.
Because i feel so displaced. I never pictured myself doing anything else other then that. And now that things don;t seem to look very good..and i seem to be fast losing my talent in literature. It seems to be slipping out of my grasp even faster then i can hold it in.
then maybe i realise..This isn't what im meant to do.
and its scaring me.
Because almost from the start..i was so sure this was what i was meant to do
And if this isnt't it..then what am i meant to do?
and its making me a mental and emotional wreck..how can one come to terms with sucha reality. Am i still doing lit because its a safety net? Because i don't think i can do anything else?
But uni lit if not the same..i don't deny that occasionally the feeling of excitment still creeps up my back when i reach for my book..and wonder what hidden treasures lie within.. but its fast waning. its fast waning. and I becoming worried. Coz i am like already 20 and i should know what i wanna do with my life.
And suddenly i am not very sure anymore.
I am on a stage now. I know the directions. I know The Dialogue. But somehow i can't seem to move or speak.
And as the spotlight shines upon my face, i run away. This is what i wanted..the spotlight..the limelight..the applause.
But i can't face it
..coz somehow i have a feeling this stage dosent belong to me.