In the beginning, when I first started acting, I had an idea of what was inside of me. I knew the person I was and the actor I could become. Over the passing three years I have muddled, disparaged, and forgotten that truth. Taking it and hiding it deep inside of me. Piling on false: aspirations, accolades, validations, ideas of greatness, and illusions of grandeur.

I created a persona who thought he could rise to the top; an actor who thought he could actually make it in this business. I convinced myself that I was some torch bearer for the school I represented. That I was a hope and beacon of light for those that would come after, paving a way for their future, a stone on the shoulder of giants for them to step on. I was convinced that I was a prodigy and protégé of those that had come before me; the next step in the future of our craft and art.

Oh the lies we tell ourselves are the worst lies. At the same time they are the most hilarious and I have had a good laugh in watching all those lies reveal themselves. I have not opened myself to deeper truths inside but constructed an intricate veil to hide behind. The veneer of the hero.

But I am no hero. I am no saint. I am no torchbearer, no protégé, no prodigy, no genius. I am the lingering festering nightmare that creeps out at twilight’s dawn. The rebellious and tarnished actor that has no hopes or expectations. The mangy underdog kicked to the side and forgotten. I created a spotlight for myself when it’s in the shadows where I thrive.

So eat to your heart’s content you aryan bastards bathing in the light of these false suns. Take a stroll down your red carpet of bloody tears into the golden room. Keep to your closed minded ideas and bitter resentment to the dawning empire that never saw the night. Take control you wretched false hearted statues of these hollow accolades—which are filled as much as you are inside. Let the respective worlds you toil in recognize you all.

For I will toil in my darkness, eating the scraps I can steal away from your gluttonous exhibitions. Content to wander these dark hallways. I am done feigning the greatness that others impose on me. Everyone has an idea of who I am and I am bone tired of trying to realize their false identity. I know who I am, always have, and I don’t give a shit if you agree with it.

Over my three years of acting I have battled a lot of inner demons. I’ve been forced to confront the uglier sides of myself, to not ignore them and instead wrestle with their influence and dark truth. I have had to look in the mirror and see me for who I truly am. I did not like it, I despised most of myself, but I accepted it as a starting point; a man in need of a lot of growth, and maturity. It helped that I had a loving coach that delicately guided me through the process and was more patient with me than myself. As well as a core group of friends and actors that were experiencing the same thing in their own way. We could build and lift each other up.

Over the past seven weeks I have encountered all the demons faced in the past three years and then some. It has been some of the most intense battles…and I almost didn’t make it out. I was alone out here across the pond. No coach in close proximity to gently keep me on track or encourage me out of my self doubt. No friends or support group to go to and pick me up and make me believe in myself again. While I did have fellow actors here and did engage in communal support it was not the same. Three years in a program with people going through the training we go through is something completely different and inadequate to bear comparison.

I’ve always feared my ego, knowing what was deep down inside of me. While it would rear its ugly head every now and then I was, or my coach or friends, were able to put it back in its place. That was not the case here. I crossed the line of loving the art in myself to loving myself in the art. To wanting nothing but me, me…me, O despised me. Struggling with my doubts and feelings of inadequacy: my constant need for validation, wanting to get it right, to be perfect, to be noticed, to matter, to be loved, to love, to be the sole soul in the limelight. I needed to feed the hole inside me that could never be filled. My deep insatiable cavern was exposed and nothing could fill it. I was consumed by my ego and I hated myself to the very core, and yet even then everything had to be about me. Through that I forsook all my training and everything I had learned about acting. I became consumed with myself in the art and when I presented my pieces I failed utterly; which is the best thing that could have happened to me.

I failed, but I learned a lot. That I cannot do this on my own and was never meant to, thank you God. That it will never be about me and shouldn’t be. I am a piece of this much greater puzzle, a great piece, but a piece none the less, and trying to jam a piece that has a specific spot carved out into another spot doesn’t work. Everything must serve a purpose and that there truly are no small roles, only small actors. All this I knew and believed before but I never confronted it with every essence of my being. I also know that this will not be the last time I will have to battle this, maybe never as great again, but I know I have the knowledge and power to conquer it and get back on track.

We have 10 days to get a full Shakespeare play ready for show. After eight days I’ve been able to turn things around, learning from my first six weeks of struggles here, and it has been amazing. I can feel the ego wanting to seep through but it doesn’t. There is more fun in serving the purpose I have for this play, there is more freedom and more creativity. All the ugly parts of me aren’t present and I can instead concentrate fully on the work and enjoy the artist that is inside of me. I don’t need to seek validation or the feeling of needing to be noticed or be in the limelight. My presence is there, in conjunction with other artists and today we have created something spectacular. “This art and craft that we pursue is bigger than me and bigger than you.” I can finally understand my own quote better.

A whole lot of exposition but all that to say I believe the greatest battle was in facing this on my own. The training wheels came off and…I almost didn’t make it, truly…but I did. That led to growth and maturity. I stared long into the abyss within me and instead of losing myself, I dug deep and found the well within. That victory alone has made this trip mean the world to me.

Colossians 3:23-24

I all too often forget why I act, why I live this life and who I am living it for. Giving in to these rich machinations in my head for some perceived form of greatness; for some worldly reward. I become more fixated on the endreamed end then on the journey of the here and now. Forgetting the crux of this art form which is only a mirror to the crux of life: to live in the present, now.

If the stars were made to worship, so will I.

I’ve worried so much about my end that I’ve blinded myself to everything that is right in front of me. I’ve ignored the joy that is all around me, becoming disillusioned as my dreams slip through my grasp. Dreams that aren’t worth the thoughts that form them. They were never meant to be spoken let alone realized.

If the mountains bow in reverence, so will I.

My deep disappointment in myself dissipates as soon as I take off these blinders and see the world around me. As I look at those that I have touched and those that have touched me. As I see where I am currently, and the artist and person I am now. Too long have I sequestered these eyes from the enjoyment of Your sun. I’ve worried so much about being in the moment without ever living it; no more, it needs to stop.

If you left the grave behind you, so will I.

I have tarried too long in these pestilential pits. I was never meant to be here, let alone stay here for so long. It is not my concern what tomorrow might bring or what my end might be. My burden is simple: to enjoy the glory of today. To take in every glorious moment, whether it be full of laughs or tears. That is what he meant so long ago, that lost friend, and what You above have always decreed. I have carried these burdens for too long. They are not mine to shoulder, they never were. This built up guilt needs to be shed.

If you gladly chose surrender, so will I.

I am alive, here and now. Any reward this world could ever offer would fall short of what You have already given me and still what You have yet in store for me. These dreams, this guilt, this craft, this instrument, this heart, I surrender to You. I thank You for Your unfailing love, for Your unending grace, and for the people I get to touch and be touched by. While I work harder, may I also be more thankful.

I am cursed by the knowledge of what I can achieve, the work I can put out. To do anything less leads to pain and frustration. It leads to a dark hole filled with doubt and insecurities; to questions that fracture the core of who I am as an actor, splintering out cracks in the foundation I thought I so solidly built. A depression deepens as my confidence concedes to my inner demons.

What am I trying to prove?
Who am I so desperately trying to impress?

I hold firm faith and lapdog loyalty to this lineage I attend to. Fixated on the fact that I am a forerunner to the future of so many that will follow in my footsteps. I bolster a burden that I alone have created for myself; to bring forth this quiet genius that was not long for languish in this desert. To, at all costs, give credence to what I hold dear here and thrust it out into the wide world. Giving light to the greatness I have seen and known from that of my mentor and fellow followers.

Who am I to carry such a burden?
How could I possibly think this is something I could do?

But maybe this is all ego. Who the hell am I to think that I could carry such a load? Why should I think that fame and notoriety is what matters to the art that is crafted there? This burden I bear may well be more so for me, than the humble intention I had hitched it for. Is it for validation that I desire these deeds to be widely wondered at? If so, then is that validation more vindicative to me and my ego than what I am trying to value in this school, craft, and art? I long for others to recognize the greatness to which we attain each and every night but I know in my heart of hearts, that is not why any of us do it; why any of us show up night after night.

I am a Fool hell bent on a Foolish task.

I believe that I have crossed over from loving the art in myself (and those around me) into loving myself in the art. I was never meant to shoulder such a burden as I bear. It is not up to me to bring the world into the shadows we so splendidly play in. I have no doubt that some day the sun will rise on this corner of the craft and send it sprawling forth into the ether. But that is not my path. I am one of many forerunners foraying out to lay the groundwork for those that come after; an ambassador of our art. Should a red carpet greet me, blessed be I, but still I open the door for another who will come after. And should I rather be greeted with a dusty desert and part as a path that leads to nowhere, then I will shout ‘Amen’! For I have gone where others dared not tread and laid groundwork for braver souls to build anew. When the dust settles after my torrential reign over this terrain it will read forth…

This art and passion that we pursue
Is bigger than me and bigger than you.

Everything inside feels fake. Everything that thus proceeds forth is therefore fake as well. If I were asked not to speak until I had reason to, silence would echo into eternity. The vast emptiness of space is filled with the deposits of my talent. The great halls and chambers of my heart are empty; dried ages ago from the vital life-force that invigorates the soul.

My coach once pondered why for me it was hard to not find these characters we create, a refuge unto these feelings. A skin to put on to allow oneself to forget the struggle that rages within: instead having another life and voice to give purpose to. Sprouting purpose where before it grappled to grow. But I find that I have nothing inside to offer these haunting sprites.

How to fill a shape that requires the utmost care and detail? A figure, time, and place that demands a rise from the actor. I expand my nothingness which only collapses in on its own weight; a black hole of talent that cannot hold the container from which it expands forth.

I start with something but I cannot sustain it.

Better is it to shut my mouth and appear wise
Than to open it and remove all doubt