roll credits

I’m visualizing my life on the big screen. Feeling audience eyes watching, waiting for me to do “the thing”. Aching in their seats. And my endearing human flaws prevent me from doing anything, even the thing that clearly needs to happen.

What’s happening? I’m waiting for my hero arc. Where’s my paradigm shift? Where’s the catalytic event that changes everything and forces self-actualization?

I have these horrific thoughts of death. Thoughts that anything, anyone, something would just die. Go on and change my life, please. I need the push. Privileged, selfish thoughts of death. I’m so tired of who I am and I want to move on. Somebody kill something. I don’t know how to make myself become the shift I need.

Movies, hero arcs. I’ve been programmed to believe life will act on me. I brace for impact and fantasize the reaction. The reaction will be greatness, I know this. I think daily, please, happen to me, I’m sitting on my hands with potential. I’m wearing a seatbelt and the impact never comes. 

So I’m talking to myself, persuading. Saying, life is not a movie. Or maybe it is, it’s just the longest damn movie you’ve ever seen. And you have to be the one who makes the change, and you have to be the one who’s changed. I am the catalyst and the reaction. I am the paradigm shift.

I am the beginning, middle, and end. I am the deep curved cinematic screen of time and the award winning screenplay and the struggling screenplay writer. And I need to live with me for longer than three hours. I need to live with me forever.