Tuesday, January 3, 2012

"A long time ago, in the magical, far-off land of Soviet Russia"

I just found an unpublished blog post in my drafts bin. The sole line is now the title of this post.

It was July. 

I wonder what I was thinking then? I look at old posts, my no-love letters, where I refer passive-aggressively to people who have aggravated me. Some of them, I recall who incensed me. Some of them I don't. Some of them I took down tonight, because they were petty and mean and some bridges, once burnt, do not need to be left to smolder. (Or perhaps ought to be rebuilt?) 

Things are coming together, slowly but surely. The draft is working but I need to put in some serious work on it. Tomorrow, then. These characters come easily now (and why shouldn't they? I've lived with them inside my head for a year and a half). 

A year ago, I was on my way to the Young Playwrights Inc national conference. I go back to NYC on Saturday, and I'll be helping with the conference - but I'm not a "young playwright" anymore, and I need to make my own path. That's what this EJAF fellowship thing is, though. Learning how to put things together, how to make my own deadlines and force things to happen. 

I had a long conversation earlier about the difference between friendship and pity - I need to spend more time and energy on people whose friendship I truly value, and less time and energy on people who I hang out with because they have made themselves out to be so pathetic that no one else will pay them any mind. Perhaps it's a resolution. But then, so is no longer using question marks for anything other than actual questions. 

It is January of my twenty-first year, and I am growing up.



(Do we ever stop feeling like children, just a little bit, deep down in quiet spaces and the recesses of our hearts?) 

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