Scary Sections

It’s been a crazy couple of weeks. Facing off with my fears of moving, ineptness, flying, women, family, work. It’s run the gamut of all things that I could possibly be worried about and it’s been exhausting. Will I have enough money to get me out to LA? Do I even want to really go to LA? What is so fucked up about me that it’s hard to love me? Am I a narcissist? (Even writing this on my public blog is enough irony to kill a horse.) Am I breaking my family’s heart? What exactly do I think I’m going to accomplish with this? Who the hell am I to think I’m good enough to make it in the biggest pond in the world?

One thing has surfaced for sure though. There’s not much more I can learn here in Orlando. Sure. There’s always going to be something that can be gleaned off, but It’s all diminishing returns at this point. I’m essentially one of the kings of the mole hill.

So fuck it. I’m moving out to LA. Fuck my fear. I don’t know exactly when, but I’m aiming for March. I visited. I was deathly afraid of flying, but I flew anyways. I’m working through it, because I know that worse than dying is never really allowing myself to live a full life. It’s an irrational fear anyways. Thanks go out to Tisse and Laura for the assist. My great friends are the pillars that support me.

LA. It’s a city full of wonderfulness and terribleness. Everything horrid you’ve heard about it is true, also everything amazing you’ve heard about it too. A city full of extremes where everyone is working 200% harder than you’re working. Networking like madmen, playing around like kids, being the embodiment of electricity, so flighty, so powerful, so ethereal. Even if you’re in a great conversation everyone turns to look at whoever walks into the door next.

I’m going there. I’m going to learn everything I can about improv. I’m going to try and write for television. I’m going to keep my fucking day job if I can, because there’s something that rings so inauthentic from the folks that are struggling like hell as an actor when they say they’d like to be your friend and then ask you who you know and what workshops you’ve done.

It’s been a roller coaster ride. I met old friends there that I never thought I’d see again, people I haven’t seen in over 10 years. I made the wrong move in new relationships and poisoned their roots shriveling up whatever could have been into absolute nothingness. Irreparable damages and miraculous chance meetings. It all reminds me just how ‘nothing’ I am in the world. How much of a mote of dust in the air I really am.

And so I must go.

The Fear. It’s such a force of inertia. I’m breaking free. It’s time.