I dropped by SJCS today to watch the Passion Play. As per my reputation, I am expected to criticize it. No, not critique, criticize. Honestly, I don't give a damn. It is not my place nor does my opinion matter to those high school students who did their work the best that they could. (At least we all hope so) In the end, people will believe what they want to believe. It is funny how my words to a friend are now back to haunt me. No. I am not bitching, I am not criticizing either. Their production isn't the reason why I am blogging. Though I must say, I am quite impressed with a lot of aspects of the Passion Play. On a side note, the paranoid in me thinks that there were quite a number of allusions to me there...
The part that struck me the most was curtain call. After it anyway. I think I've realized why I've been so bitter with myself. I've realized why I keep coming back to that building that I keep cursing. Everything boils down to one thing: recognition. I've always gone for recognition. Now, if my sister would read this she'd probably think God has already sent lightning bolts after my lying mouth. But this is true. I have gone all Hitler by blaming others for my shortcomings. I need to own up to myself. (OH THE IRONY!) But this is still not the case.
Back to recognition. My twisted motivation blinded me from the most important thing. Happiness. There was a twinkle in the eyes of those Seniors when they were posing. There was genuine happiness there. And one particular girl was specially radiant, unseeming in her role. Who I've probably ruined my chances for anyway... But lessons learned. I hope. In a perfect world, we do whatever that makes us happy. We all know the world isn't perfect, but its our damn duty to make ours is the most spectacular and perfect world to live in.
So I thank, albeit silently, the Seniors for their blithe and honest expressions. It has taught me a lot. And I will struggle to enjoy the things that I am doing, even though I am constantly encouraged to always quantify my experiences.
In all honesty, I always wanted to go back to the auditorium and deliver a monologue. I would stand in the center of the stage and face the wall and begin.
I hate you. And everything you represent. It was funny wasn't it? To delude a young man into thinking that he belonged in your alcove. I guess, in the long run, you've enjoyed your laughter at his every appearance...at his expense. To poison such possibilities, quite entertaining, just as your displays. But still you go so far as to deprive him your whole embrace. Always teasing, always tempting. To perform, such is a dream. Your offerings to much an impressionable mind. Curse you and curse my stupidity! Curse the illusion that you bring! So much could have been different, better, brighter if not for your tantalizing visions! And now perhaps this man has grown, ruined, thinking that he could. He has sacrificed. He has glorified himself and extolled you. Only to be shot down by reality. Brilliant. As... Arsenic. All the world is a stage right? Perhaps, my role was a figurehead.
I end. Sane. Sober. And happy. So long SJCS. You've given me much to hate, but the past is the past. Things only get better and harder from here. Don't expect me to write. Goodbye.