Life is melodramatic theatre. Everywhere you go, people are always acting out…parents’…singles…couples…you… myself. We’re all playing a part. I hate melodrama. I hate myself. I hate you. I despise everyone involved in this redundant play. I always thought life was good and bad theatre simultaneously comingled with large amounts of mediocrity in between when I was growing up. And, now being an experienced adult thespian. I know it. Everyone’s playing a bit whether they realize it or not. We’re all playing some kind of role. Most people are background fillers. Some are the supporting cast. Some are behind the scenes. a lot are the watching audience. But, I’m the main attraction. Being the main attraction has its perks, but it’s got its downside too. People throw roses at you for a great performance. I hate roses. They’ll throw rotten fruit at you for a poor one. I love fruit. People crowd around you after a great show asking you if you’ll read their next big script and sign on with them. I try to politely decline, but it just makes things worse. They sense weakness when you’re nice and become shark-like aggressive vultures when you’re down. It’s hard to say ‘no’ coquettishly when you’ve been reared with proper table manners. It just makes things harder on yourself. What am I saying? This job is as hard as it gets. It runs us down. We fight. We squabble. We bicker over the quality of the script and who gets to play what. It’s exhausting going through all that. I don’t know how we put up with it.
Plying our trade in this field is taxing. It’s taxing on the nerves. It’s taxing on the spirit. It’s taxing on our libido. I think we’ve all been there and will continue to be there again. a melancholy melodrama seems to be what we’re all living in spotted with exuberant elation and singing joys. All manufactured, of course, but with eternal monotonous drudgery dominating. Being dominated by drudgery isn’t our idea of a good time, but we go through it like placid cows anyways.
Theatre is sweet. Theatre is bitter. Theater is coarse. And, it doesn’t pay very well. You have to pay to get in and it’s usually very expensive. Of course, it’s expensive. You have to pay the lighting technicians; the thespians; the director; you; me; and everyone else that make up the play. We all get paid, just not very well. The only ones who seem to be doing well for themselves are the corporations and bankers. They’re the backers of the play and they pretty much call the shots and reap the profits. Then, they’ll finance another play that they think will do well and bastardize that. They could care less about innovation, creativity, originality, or for the welfare for the cast for that matter. They just love formulaic re- hashed material with different faces. And, they’ll find fresh ones too when they’re done with an aging cast that’s too old or too sick to get out of their bed to resume the craft, which is all depressing. I’m thinking about checking out early of this profession. I haven’t won any awards. I’m tired and it’s been a long day.