Write what I think and I think what I write. All good things, all good things - most of the time.
I really don’t know why I am writing this. It’s the same old thing told once again—this time in my own words. How revitalizing! Not really. Then maybe this is my problem, and has always been my problem, my amazingly passive-aggressive attitude. My outlook hasn’t been stellar for some time, and the funniest part of that confession is that anyone who knows me would have never once thought that about me. That’s probably one of the greatest skills I have mastered with years of theatrical training (if that’s what we can call it). Ugh! I did it again. I spew passive-aggression and half the time I don’t even realize I am doing it.
Let's get this out in the open first. I have always been a hopeless romantic that falls hard and fast. I've dreamed of finding that perfect someone and starting a little hipster family in a perfect little city with hipster friends and disgruntled extended family who clutch onto their traditional ways of life. Openly longing for a family isn't necessarily common for a young millennial male specimen as myself. I am a man, I am proud, I am not ashamed of wearing my heart on my sleeve. I wanted love and I wanted it so badly, but I also have a horrible tendency—I have a track record of dating extremely unstable people.
It’s never easy to start off a new job in a field that is very familiar to you, but with little to go off of. You were hired for a reason, right, and you had almost convinced yourself that there was no one better for the position than yourself when going for the job in the first place. Well, it’s true, you are the best person for the position. You landed the Drama teacher position because someone somewhere saw your potential, and you saw it too. Although it might have been a glimpse at the time, it was there, and no matter how much you want to deny it, you know you have something to offer.
I came across this piece of decor over the holidays and had no other choice than to laugh. I also had to take a picture of it, which I am not one hundred percent sure I was supposed to or allowed to, but I did it anyways. I felt compelled to, actually. Then I deleted it, because I felt guilt. However, for interest sake, it was a canvas with the lyrics "There will be an answer, let it be."