So it goes…

I’m not exactly sure how I want to start this. It’s been a long time coming and I really believe that it is more necessary for to write now than ever before. For most of my life I wrote daily and have always felt the therapeutic release that it provides. I moved to NYC to become an actor almost three years ago and slowly, my writing has become more sporadic. I haven’t written anything in a long while and I think that breaking the block myself will be the best way to change that.

I feel like now, in this stage of my life, I need to document some things in order to work through them and have a record it. I need a record of me. I had a livejournal in high school that I recently rediscovered. Reading through my old entries was extremely enlightening. There were nights documented that had been forgotten and a lot of the posts reminded me of how much my friends have always meant to me. Also, that people seemed to enjoy reading what I had to say. Reading through some of the posts, it was obvious that I was often struggling to be happy. A lot of that had to do with all of the negativity I received on it, anonymously and otherwise. These comments actually lead to me no longer using the journal, even for myself. Not that these were the first or last cyber-crazies I would deal with…Ever since I have had the internet, I have had “haters”. I used to receive anonymous IMs mocking me, then it was on the live journal, it even escalated in my adult life to a full-blown insane cyber-stalker. It’s amazing how other people can ruin something so easily for you. So on this blog I would like to say something their mothers should have taught them:

If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all. Save your breath and my time. It takes more effort to be a cyber-asshole than to do nothing, so all hate will be taken as unrequited love turned sour, and make you look like the anonymous little jellyfish that you are. You can’t hate someone without loving them first, it’s too strong of an emotion.

A lot of my livejournal was a bit emotional and over dramatized, but I was in high school and I have always believed that people’s troubles are relative depending on who they are, their current issue set, and their personal history. Re-reading it gave me a sense of detachment and an impartiality that helped me manage my problems and let go, which is something I have serious problems with. I never forget and I never let things go, which in my adult life, causes me a lot of stress and sadness. I’m forever analyzing and re-analyzing and so I look at this as a way to step back and look at my life somewhat impartially, and see what I like and dislike both daily and over time.

I have been struggling to start this because I wasn’t sure how I wanted to go about it. I’ve always known I wanted to write more, but I wasn’t sure of the best platform. The biggest issue I have is honesty. I want to write honestly about whatever and whomsoever I choose but in this age of infinite technology and information, I don’t think it’s professionally healthy to do so. So for now, this blog will remain anonymous. I will also try to change people’s names because it’s not fair to them if I don’t. I want to write limitlessly about love, sex, drugs, and basic life as a struggling artist in NYC and not feel the need to censor myself for anyone or anything. I’m not sure where to begin so I’ll start with the quote that has been itching the back of my brain since I began thinking about blogging, and since my trip to Walden…

“I wish to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived. I did not wish to live what was not life, living is so dear; nor did I wish to practice resignation, unless it was quote necessary. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life, to live so sturdily and Spartan-like as to put to rout all that was not life, to cut a broad swath and shave close, to drive life into a corner, and reduce to it’s lowest terms, and, if it proved to be mean, why then to get the whole and genuine meanness of it, and to publish it’s meanness to the world; or if it were sublime, to know it by experience, and be able to give a true account of it in my next excursion.” –HDT, Walden

I went to Walden with two of my favorite people this year and I saw it’s beauty. The sun shines so brilliantly on the water of the lake that you’d almost believe the lake was on fire. Walden is a beautiful pond surrounded by trails and trees and the leaves were changing. Nature never ceases to amaze me. In my adult life, I have realized how much I love deciduous trees. Maybe it’s because I grew up in the land of palm fronds and pine needles…I’m just saying that Walden for me was a transcendental experience. Everything fell into perfect alignment. I was focused and clear-headed and suddenly at peace.

Maybe it isn’t as amazing if you don’t go on a such a beautiful day and you don’t have people you love standing beside you. It’s so beautiful and peaceful there. The cabin he had was impossibly small (although it was 10’x15’ so it’s actually bigger than some of my friends’ New York apartments) but he lived there for two years to try and find meaning and reason to his life. I’m going to use this as a similar platform.

So here it goes….

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