An insidious thought I have trouble shaking:
Am I trying to live somebody else's dream?
Ah, Ennui. I've missed that feeling.
Allow me to explicate.
What I am not saying: that I feel like anyone has forced me into the life I'm leading right now with the goals I've set. Maybe I've been steered in this direction and simply not put as much thought into things as maybe I should have, but ultimately no one is making me do what I do.
But here I am, in Los Angeles, attempting to scrape together a career as an actor and writer. Before I go any further, I need to publicize a personal belief of mine - passion is overrated. At least, for some people and I think for me. A small, outlier number of people are gifted with a laser beam focus on one thing that they want to do with their life. I know some of these people and they are sometimes inspiring, sometimes annoying, to be around. I think these people are lucky. I, and I don't think most of the human population, are inclined in such a single-minded way.
I do like acting. And I'm good at it. I like writing. I'm good at that too. Let's see if we can do something with those.
But is acting something that I NEED TO DO WITH EVERY FIBER OF MY BEING OR ELSE I WILL PERISH?!?!?! ...not so much. I'm sure that if I were to give it up completely, I would get the hunger for it every now and then, but it's not like breathing to me. Writing is a little more like breathing; if I ever completely stop writing, I think something will have gone seriously wrong.
But even with writing, I don't have a singleminded focus. I'm not striving to be a TV writer or a screenwriter or a novelist or a playwright or a blogger or a <insert other writer here>. If one of those happens to be where I end up, I will be happy and I will probably continue to plug away at other writing things on the side.
Which is all a long way of saying: sometimes, I feel like I'm taking up space in an already overcrowded industry. Maybe I should give it up and let someone who wants it more have my spot already.
I'm not going to do that (not in the near future, at least). I think the problem is is that I don't know what I want. I have a lot of trouble seeing that in myself. I know I'm the one who knows me best and, therefore, should be best to know what the hell it is I want to make with my life, but the truth is I feel like I'm often moving towards a vague shimmer in the distance. My short-term goals are specific and planned to a T, but my long term is fuzzy. I have many ideas I want to get off of the ground, but figuring the specifics and how they'll fit into the overall scheme of my life is a crazymaking task.
I what I do know is this: I want to live my best life. I don't want to settle. Beyond that, the details are tricky.
Details, details, details. That's always the fuck of it all, isn't it? I've already written a post about that some weeks ago.
Maybe I should stop worrying so much. Maybe if I just chill and keep an open mind, an opportunity or idea will come along from some place I never would've expected and maybe it'll open up the clear path to the rest of my life that had thus far been obscured by thick foliage.
...but I hate waiting. I want to do something. Sitting and thinking and fretting about my next move is doing something, but the value of it is debateable.
Do I need to think more? Think less? Or merely shift what I focus on? I don't know, man. I don't know.
Happy trails. Biatch.