JUMBLED UP

That sinking feeling. Early mornings. Early afternoons.

A yearning for this blur to conclude. I know what’s next. And yet I’m treading water, down in Limbo land. In my mind, I have always been ready. I am the only one who has prevented it. Maybe I was too immature. Maybe I didn’t realise. Or maybe I chose not to actively listen to the others. The ones that could see it.

Making others cackle. Dressing up as a Rabbi. And what Jane said the other day. It would be a shame not to at least try something new, that I have always known.

But the time will come. And when it does, I’ll have to yoink it. Whenever I’m down I just remember who I am. Marc likes to say that I’m a child prodigy. With only flashes of brilliance.

I thought the most difficult moments of school were over for me. I thought I’d come so far. But I guess we are wired to certain behaviours at home. Maybe I jinxed it. Taking backwards steps. Being psyched out by that imp. Still not learning photoshop. Not planning. Not swallowing industrial Tic Tacs.

But haven’t I loved 4am improv? Wasn’t comedy my D&AD? Radio ads with dad… I’m finding what’s true and flying close to it. Our work should make others laugh, cry or think. Maybe I should change my name to ‘Our work’ then.

I couldn’t put into words what I’ve been thinking about a lot lately. Then I heard that all the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players.

Being built up at town hall… And then just like my computer, I crash.

Mentally done is the mind controller.

Fizzling out within this pleasant window. That seems to be the story again. But not after all of this. The only difference? This time the others join me.

All the days are again seeping into one. But this time I won’t have to run. I won’t need to be on the hop. Because the day to day will be my splendour. 

Peep peep. There’s not long to go now. The final turn in a race that already seems like it’s been run. The Hyperloop has become a tram. Miriam said I should use my voice. And so, I will. A range of possibilities come into play if there is a foundation. It’s getting pretty tempting. And that is why it’s time to close a chapter that seems to keep on slithering.

And it all comes down to this. Cue the tumbleweed. Who could have predicted it would be on zoom? And yet it seems that all I want is for this moment to zoom. But I also want to freeze it and own it. Squeeze it and hold it because I consider these minutes golden.

How will I know if I don’t try?

The world to come would sound a harsh metallic note if I didn’t.