michelle.in.space.

It’s so weird how you can feel so trapped in such a big city.  On Saturday I was in the East Village and needed to get to the Upper West Side to meet up with someone.  I had planned it out so the trip wouldn’t be too bad.  However, the F train wasn’t running uptown at the stop I was at.  I was running late and was like, you know what, I will just take a cab - something I don’t do too often.  After about 10-15min of trying to hail a cab to only be greeted by “Off Duty” signs, it was decided to walk to the next stop on the F (Broadway/Lafayette).  Got there, waited a while, and it finally showed up.  Then I had to make a transfer and that took a while to arrive and then was delayed underground on top of it all.  

There were no other options!  Cabs weren’t avail, subways weren’t working, I couldn’t feasibly walk from East Houston / Avenue B to 110th St./Amsterdam in any reasonable amount of time.  Anyway, I finally made it there (45min late), but there were a few moments where I felt I would never escape the East Village.  

I realize this is a bit dramatic and was also coupled with the fact that I was running late, but it was a terrible feeling.  I just need to get into shape and be able to ride my bike everywhere.  I can’t deal with relying on the unreliable.  Especially on weekends.

Mind over matter

There are a few projects I have going on that I keep putting off because in my mind they are daunting and challenging.  I know that when I actually set some time aside and do it the projects won’t actually take very long at all.  It’s true, they will be challenging, but nothing that I can’t handle.  Why so anxious about everything?

Note to self:  JUST GET IT TOGETHER ALREADY.

hello

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Day 10: Write about your family.

Here we go!

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Day 4: Write a letter to your future self.

Dear Future Self,

I’m not sure how far into the future it will be when you receive this letter.  I wish I could send you a time capsule instead; I always thought those were fun.  When I was younger I was part of a time capsule project.  Some kids in the town collected items and those items were buried in front of the Smithtown Library.  I wonder if anyone else remembers burying a time capsule in front of the Smithtown Library besides me.  Additionally, I have no recollection of what I submitted on my behalf, so that is another reason it would be awesome to dig it up.  I think it would be similar to looking at my old DeadJournal and LiveJournal accounts, which I actually did a few weeks ago.  It was like reading the words of a stranger.  Future self, I hope I’m not too much of a stranger to you.

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Day 2: Write a poem

Well, here you go:  I decided to write a sonnet.

Fame, erratic as the candle’s flicker,
Pales in complexion as the time does pass.
From within, the heat emits much quicker
Than merits often have time to amass.
The blanket warmth of the flame does deceive,
And oft’ the customary dance must rest.
With fiery tongues, inconstant, do conceive
Aggressive words, collect the smoke-filled guest.
But the changing winds cannot oppress the light
Nor dampen the mood of what has been won.
Remaining calm and keeping hope in sight,
Your greatness shines like the eternal sun.
The golden dawn becomes dusk in a beat,
As men avoid the pains of their defeat.

—-

Check back: I will be doing the 28 Day Writing Challenge every day in February.

Day 1: Write about yourself.

Ah, so broad!  Brevity isn’t my middle name (Anne is), but I will try to keep this on point.  I grew up on Long Island in Suffolk County.  This is quite notable because if I had grown up a little further west in Nassau County I would act closer to a cast member of the Jersey Shore and wuld only type n text spk.  Miracles do happen.

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PASSION

In college, I took a class called “Acting for Directors and Writers,” because at the time I was convinced I was going to write short films or sitcom pilots and it would be beneficial to understand this mysterious creature: the actor.  It was a fun class - we did short form improv exercises (where I somehow usually played an old woman) and performed scenes and monologues.  

To get us into the mode of performing monologues, we had to do a “passion speech.”  We each had to stand in front of the class, as ourselves, and speak truthfully about something we were passionate about.  I had no idea.  What was I passionate about?  Passion is such a strong word in my mind.  I like and think I am good at doing a lot of things, but PASSIONATE about them?  I’m not ready to make that kind of commitment - my current relationship status with passion is “open.”

So…I talked about David Bowie for 3-5 minutes and how I admired him as an artist, how bold he was and how generally I was more interested in “classical* rock” than modern stuff.

*I could have died.  I said  ”classical” instead of “classic.”  I could feel all the pretentious music lovers’ eyes boring into my soul.

This exercise was to make us comfortable performing a monologue and the pieces our teachers chose for us were directly based on these passion speeches.  Long story short, I ended up performing a touching piece about a girl who was obsessed with Madonna and followed her to London in hopes of meeting her.

But what am I getting at here?  I feel like I’ve been coasting through life on an apathetic hover board (I’m not athletic enough to handle a skateboard).  I feel like things might start happening if I can commit to something in my mind and be like, “this is what I care about.  I am going to work hard because I care about this most.”

Passion, come at me, bro’!

Stream of consciousness.

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