The Act

I’ve held my breath for far too long, and tip toed behind the stage, waiting for the slow hum of a group of string instruments beckoning the audience to bring their hustle and bustle tumbling down to a gentle murmur, knowing full well what the silence implies, carefully watching the side-stage crew pulling their leavers and egging the performer to take centre stage while curtain warmers are drawn to the side, signalling that the grandeur act is about to begin, just before the stage lights up and the house lights are dimmed...slowly...yes, slowly...the silence bites deep within my chest, tearing my heart from the deep abyss where it lie, like a misplaced puzzle piece that’s been too hard to find, or an unwilling cavity waiting to be filled...slowly I feel the cold chill creep up my back as I begin to realize that once again the hour of judgement...the Act...is about to begin...

As the main curtain is drawn, and the backstage lights are dimmed, the low-lights exposing the backdrop are lit, giving the performer a setting, a placement, an atmosphere, a point from where the journey begins or ends, whichever way the story goes, but a place nonetheless...I find myself staring back at glaring eyes trying, fighting desperately to break the facade, destroy my character, tear down the fourth wall, pulling everything aside...hoping...desperately hoping...to find the missing piece...the hidden piece...the part of the play that lost itself in a foolish game of hide and seek...an audience tearing down the suspension of disbelief, the dimension of the entire performance, trying hard than myself...trying to find ME...

Yes...I have found that life is all an Act, a grand performance of players and plays, of lights and glitter, smoke and mirrors, tricks and illusions, masked by a curtain, backdrops and trapdoors on a stage. But beyond all the pretty lights, and the vivid colours, the fanciful stories of fantastical creatures, of mighty heroes and powerful foes, I have found that the greatest trick of all was merely fooling myself into believing that all of this was real...But the real world is dangerous that way, fooling you into believing that there are real heroes, and fanciful gardens of life, and breathtaking sunrises, sunsets and dusks...There simply is no happy ending, all we can do is make do with what we have, and realize that this is as good as it gets, and that the only happy ending we can hope for is that we learn to be happy with ourselves...with who we are...with who we were meant to be...

This is the truth...the cold truth...the great illusion. Life, Love and Happiness is merely all part of The Act...