acting
theatre
the arts
they are art
but they are also my job
and so i view them as such
otherwise
i get too overwhelmed
i get too anxious over everything
so if i treat them as a career
a necessity
an activity i’ve done so much i could probably do it in my sleep
they don’t hold power over me
and then i can do them
better
take your moment
meditate
relax
it’s just a morning
like any other morning
no extra stress comparatively
i don’t know why your heart is beating like that
so loud
so loud
but it is what it is
and it is just a morning
so meditate
write
and be here when you’re ready
i wish i understood
my own moods:
where the deep depth of despair
comes from/
what makes it open its great maw
and swallow me whole
just to spit me out
a day or two [or a few] later
is it hormonal?
is it simply having a new experience on the agenda?
how am i happier when i’m about to do a novel activity
but also my anxiety
flies in the face of everything?
why can’t my brain/body/heart connection
calm down enough
to understand
to comprehend
to compassion and savor and
everything in-between?
i can feel myself begin to understand
that not understanding may be an important part
of connecting with my truest self.
but i’m an analytical little kip,
and understanding is how i start
to accept and love parts of myself,
so this seemingly completely randomized set of emotions
and emotional turmoil
just makes me want to comprehend it more/
hold it tighter/
because letting it go
and be
seems
the surest way for it to take over…
(but in what way doesn’t it take over
every
single
time?)
i’m hesitant
i’m breathing
i’m waiting
to understand
or to understand that i don’t need to understand
and i’m trying to prepare myself
for not understanding
but it’s so
damn
scary
-on a precipice-
if we are to attack with metaphor
with analogy
with any sort of literary
device at our side
what would my depression be?
a shadow?
sounds too cliché
too perfect
but hear me out:
it’s always there
just sometimes i can’t see it
from my particular angle
and different environments
make it a different type
of shadow:
large and looming/
grounded and serene and looking just like me/
a tiny pool of darkness at my feet/
or not at all there
(but change one light
one type
of something
anything
in the room/place
and there it is again
and the question of
‘did it really leave
or was it just laying
in wait?’
and i’m unsure if we’re speaking
within the explanation or reality
within the metaphor or truly
just talking about my relationship
with my ever-constant frenemy
depression)
so if that darkness
is a shadow
what is my constant worry
of anxiety
what new analogy
could i find
for thee?
i’m not a boy
or a girl
or a human really
i’m just a chaotic mess
a bundle of sads and stress
stuck together
hiding
in a trenchcoat
trying to get tickets
to something
i probably shouldn’t see
you feel me?
i miss the person i used to be
i hate the person i used to be
i ache for the life i used to lead
i’m scared of going back to that life i once lead
the flashbacks offer heart-stopping anxiety
the flashbacks offer comfort and consistency
why can’t i ever figure out
what i want
for me?
i don’t understand
how to be a person
interacting with other people.
i kind of understand
how to be a person
interacting with one other person,
and i kind of understand
how to be a me
interacting with only myself;
but multiple others???
i either am too loud
or too quiet
or too uncomfortable to do anything else—
so…what does that mean?
does that make me less of a person?
or more?
does it make me an introvert?
does it make me socially anxious?
or simply anxious all the time?
is my perception of myself based on how little others can perceive me?
or is it something else entirely?
or are these all questions
that only i can answer
for myself/
accurately
?
what a weird week
said multiple people these past seven days
not necessarily bad
(nor good either)
just
weird.
and i have to agree;
going from being terrified to submit to anything,
theatre/
film/
voiceover/
experimental/
at all
(for fear of the inevitable
no-reply rejection)
i submitted to three things in two days
and got auditions for over half
(still have to audition,
but damn
does it feel like
the relief
of crawling out of a ravine
but looking up to see
more walls surrounding you
again)
man
i chose this.
the mood:
negative
the mood:
dour
the mood:
almost happy
for a little while
the mood:
existential
the mood:
hopeless
the mood:
hopeful
for once
hold on to it
it’s gone
the mood:
emptiness
is there a mood at all?
the mood:
cyclical
i should be used to it by now
the mood:
ever-changing
ever-growing
ever-morphing
into a new mood
a new emotion
a new thing to think and remember and grow
the mood:
i’m not worried
about my mood
(is
this
happiness?)
the mood:
how did i even get here?
to this place?
to this age?
to this mood?
to this hair?
to this me?
the mood:
the mood:
the mood:
[did i discover anything of substance?]
i just
want to do
something
with my hands
embroidery
or sewing
beading
or cross-stitch
i’d try crochet
or knotting up friendship bracelets
at this point i’d give wire jewelry-making a go
but my brain
when i sit down
with supplies
and a project in mind
it gives no explanation
but simply says
no
so my hands fidget
and my body holds in the pressure
of anxiety about to explode
but my depression-ridden brain
becomes its own worst enemy
it laughs in the face of my wants and desires
and it only
ever says
no
no
no
no
no
kipventures 