They say, never give up.

Stupid poster with a crane swallowing a frog who refuses to give up and keeps on choking the crane… I think I remember that from the 2nd or 4th grade. I have dreams of giving up. Not showing up. Wasting time. Running around aimless, feeling like the underbelly of motivation.
I am empty and waiting. I have a play to do, and pure passion is not filling the reserves. The pit of myself feels icky. I don’t seem to have a lot to give and instead of looking forward to share this production, I feel ashamed of myself. Unready. Grasping to touch that part of me that wants to touch others. This play is hard. I understand it, and I don’t. I am not falling into character like I use to. I am struggling, it feels unfair, and unfamiliar. I am letting myself and my cast down. The movements feel forced and unnatural. Once upon a time I felt so disassociated from myself, it was easy to slip into someone else’s life. Now I am so wrapped up in my own, I fear the talent may be gone.

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