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.