Fake

Where do we go from here? After numerous trips to and discussions about our new town, including this month-long weekend adventure, the question of "When?" would be the natural next step. That's the subject we tiptoed into last night. And with the questions, concerns and fears about relocating, it turns out we wandered into a minefield. The practical aspects of rent vs. own, mortgages, employment, career, questions of commuting, cars, insurance, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera, overtook us like a sudden, violent storm and I ended up in a self-loathing rage, ranting about my own fraudulence, saying I'm tired of empty talk, lying to myself and needing to end my self-deceptions, which left me, morose and unreachable, watching a small, downbeat Irish movie about a man undone by his own stubbornness.

Yep, sometimes I'm the life of the party.

There are a lot of questions and some need answering before we can take any steps. That’s understandable. So I don't know how I ended up sick of myself at the end of the discussion, but I do occasionally battle feelings of fraudulence. If I can’t make something happen, I view it as my failure, beating myself up for an inability to get it done, no matter the degree of difficulty. I think I was talking about my desire to leave New York because I feel that I’m not doing anything. Which blew the lid off Pandora’s Box. The whole career thing, what do I want, what am I doing about it, what could I be doing … and to all that the answer, as always, is either “I don’t know” or “Nothing.” There’s not enough space to write about and you don’t have enough time to read about this long, personal battle.

I think the spark, though, was learning a few days ago that one of my best friends just started shooting an independent film, starring alongside a well-known actor who's making his directorial debut and cast my mate as one of the leads. While very excited for my buddy's opportunity and glad that all his work in the Windy City continues to pay off, I feel at odds with myself and my slide past obscurity into dormancy. This week, someone I work with asked “So are you an actor?” and I wasn’t sure how to respond. Which has made me turn both barrels on myself.

What am I doing and where am I going? I’ve been coasting. For awhile. Not up or down hill. Just in circles. There are burning buildings I could charge into, but I’m filled with such doubt about … everything that I no longer feel like the firefighter I used to think I was, but instead the firewatcher that I used to deride, inactive and passively watching everything go by.