I kind of hope no one is reading this. Or, if we’re being 100% honest, of course I want people to be reading this. Who starts a blog if not to get fake compliments from everyone in their life who doesn’t have a blog?
Yeah, the last post I wrote on here is heavy, and the weeks following that, I didn’t really know how to pick up where that left off, but here’s a secret: I knew exactly where to pick up. I knew I could write sketches or monologue jokes or start on a new spec script or start on a new pilot or just do anything I hope one day get paid to do.
I’m keeping it completely honest, today, though. I’m terrified. Scared of everything you could possibly imagine and even scared of things that you can’t imagine. So is everyone else on the entire planet, though, and no one ever says anything. Not that they should. I’m not sure it’s actually beneficial to anyone to admit that you’re scared of anything. All it really does is tell you what you already knew while also giving you the illusion that you’re brave for admitting it.
I’m not brave nor should anyone think I am for saying this. But here is what I am: I am waiting. And that, perhaps more than anything else, scares me the most. I was waiting for 4 years to graduate high school, then I was waiting for 3 1/2 years to graduate college. Then I was waiting for 6 months to say goodbye to everyone that I loved at college. That particular waiting was equal parts wonderful and horrible. Then I was waiting to move to LA. Then I was waiting to find a job. And guess what? I’m not waiting anymore. At least not for the things I thought I was waiting for.
So what am I waiting for? What are we all waiting for? We’re waiting for the ultimate happiness, the ultimate job, the ultimate relationship. But what I’ve learned in my short 23 years of life is that even when we’re not waiting for those things anymore, we’ll probably just go back to waiting for the feeling of waiting. There’s no way to say any part of this that won’t sound like I think I know everything and have it all figured out. Let me just dispel that belief, though. I am fully aware that in the grand scheme of things, I know absolutely nothing, nor do I have anything figured out. That’s fine, though, I’m waiting for that to happen.
Maybe I don’t even have a point in writing this. Maybe the point is just that I’m writing this. And, yes, it’s pretentious and wordy and overly dramatic, but that’s me. And that’s one thing I’m not waiting for anymore. I’m not waiting to know that about myself. I’m just waiting to learn what else is important to know about me. So maybe instead of being scared about the waiting, I should learn to be scared about not waiting for anything. For complacency. So that’s what I’m going to be scared of for now. Maybe you’d like to commiserate with me?