This weekend was one in which I re-evaluated my life in various ways. I have always known in my heart what I want, and I have always been too afraid to go after it. I still am. I know where my talents lie; I know what I am capable of, but I am someone who is afraid of being irresponsible. I am afraid of disappointing my parents. I am afraid to take risks because I’ve already fallen flat on my face, and I don’t want to be less than the expectations that are laid out for me.

But I also don’t want time to pass me by and then laugh at my expense when I have nothing to show for the countless minutes and hours that I’ve wasted convincing myself to be smart; be safe. Ten years has gone by in a blink, and I feel like I never moved from that person who wanted to be something…else.

I have bills because people told me that a degree would get me where I wanted to be. Sitting behind this desk is not where I want to be, and writing a student loan check for the same amount that I pay in rent every month is not where I want to be either. I want to be creative in a way that moves beyond the time it takes to write this blog every day.

I can’t keep suppressing this urge. It overwhelms me and I can’t help but think about it all the time to the extent that it depresses me. I can’t enjoy performances because I am angry that I am not performing. I am angry at myself for not being honest with myself when all I preach to everyone else is, “please, just be honest with me”.

I know that there are people out there who can sing circles around me. But I have this desire. I have this itch. And I just want to be able to get close enough to reach around and scratch the shit out of it.

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