On Theater – A Review

There’s a hush as the houselights dim. The slow roll of silence that takes over the darkening room is only interrupted briefly by excuse me’s and sorry’s as people shuffle to their seats. Behind the curtain there is a kind face on a headset emphatically counting down from 3. As actors, stage hands, and props all find their places 2. Then, in a total hush everyone’s attention is focused in that central nothingness 1. The lights come on. The curtain draws back. The actors come to life. And the audience leans back.

Hours later and I’m still at home. Nodding my head at my desk while I type away at the keyboard in front of me.

I’m exhausted. I’ve been pulling at the taffy of my mind to find inspiration. And it just hasn’t come. Because my brain has been focused solely on the dark stage. I haven’t been able to get my mind out of it. Everyone is frozen in place waiting on the initial cue. The fall of the first domino to set things in motion.

And I’m at home struggling to eek out 200 words. Icing my neck and making tea. Neglecting the trash from takeout. I sit there, in front of the brightly lit and mostly empty document, but instead of seeing it as a space to fill. I’m waiting for it to come to life on its own. To take me away for two hours minus a fifteen-minute intermission.

It doesn’t.

Because the whole world’s not a stage, Bill. It’s just a place filled with people. And those people are filled with ideas. And those ideas don’t exactly always come easy.

I feel silly admitting this. But I’ve always feared the possibility of the world truly being a stage.

I’ve been worried in a Truman-esque sort of way that everything was made up and scripted, but I wasn’t in on the joke. Anxiety can make monsters of the world around us, and of us.

I’ve never entertained the thought for too long. But sometimes it drifts in and out of my mind and I just pause and think. Well, that’s odd.

It’s extremely ego-centric. To think the world was created for you. To test you. To exhibit you. To put you on display.

I don’t think it’s a unique anxiety. Obviously The Truman Show made that clear. But the same goes for Eye in the Sky, Slaughterhouse V and Breakfast of Champions. Somewhere in us there’s a fear of being made an exhibition. Or maybe even a vague interest?

I’ve talked about solipsism (the theory that there is only the self and nothing else) before and this could just be the brain’s way to explain the problems it presents. It could even be that we want to be the heroes of the story, the center of the universe.

For me? I just have this constant itch to perform. I feel the need to see the people around me having a good time. And if it’s not happening on its own, then I just have this innate desire to… be that good time.

This leads to me doing ridiculous stunts and acting recklessly with my own mental health just to see someone I care about smile. And sure, while that’s nice, it really is also just the worst.

In many aspects I become the actor. The performer.

While the rest of the world is living life normally. I’m reading off a script.

Life can be ironic sometimes.

A common issue with these blogs is that it blows up the issue, mainly because I put everything under a magnifying glass. I do not suffer from delusions of grandeur. I do not put myself in actual harms way that often. But I do constantly have a desire to see people entertained.

I’m not sure what it is. I’m not sure why it is. But it is.

Anyway, thanks for reading. And have a great weekend! Training starts up on Monday, so. I don’t know how life will swing by then. Hopefully I keep this up, if not. Hey, I just gotta do what I can.