Today I am grateful for:
I keep seeing you and wanting to touch you Wanting to hold you Missing you Wanting to tell you but knowing its best for once to stay silent, to stay away, to pray that something better is on its way I keep thinking that maybe if it all went away It would be okay It could be okay Like it could just work We could make it work But I'm the one who said no And for good reason But all these lights got me wanting to re-season And I just wonder how you're feeling Am I just out of sight out of mind? Are you feeling fine? And I could just ask But it feels like such a task And I feel like we just got back to normal Like I can actually talk to you and feel normal again Like we're just a couple of friends A couple of humans being human But - Do you know how gorgeous you are? Pretty boy privilege got me wishing on shooting stars And if I asked you would we get very far? Would I be begging you for time? Would I feel like an endless crime? Could we be okay? Could we just play? Could you just come over at the end of your day? Would you stay? Would you be okay? Could you help me get through this? Could you help me reminisce? Will you be the one thing crossed off my Christmas list? And if you found me under the mistletoe, would you leave me unkissed? “You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven." - Matthew 5:14-16, New International Version 14 "Oh no, she's getting all Jesus-y on us" - Said no one ever "Sometimes you need to get all Jesus-y" - Said I Today I am grateful for:
In Honor of The Eclipse:New truths I want to carry forward into the future:
Today I am grateful for:
Dear Santa:
Things I've learned about myself
The ToddlerAnd I keep seeing this image
Of this child wrangled by their father Restricted from much movement Fighting, so hard Kicking, flailing, Trying to run but being picked up so that their feet cannot touch the floor Screaming, so upset, Refusing to cower at the feet of this grown human This large man who won't let them go Shouting at them and trying to kick them, spitting even, saying, "It's not fair! It's not fair!" The parent says nothing but holds them tighter trying so desperately to just let them know they are okay, to try and comfort them, to try and say, "Hey, it's okay, you're gonna be okay," but the toddler refuses to listen, they scream, they push, they claw, they try to punch the man in the chest but it is like pecans being thrown at a glacier, a puffer fish to a cruise ship, a pebble to an oak tree, a grasshopper to a forest, so tiny, so insignificant, so helpless, so independent, so strong yet so weak, so tiny yet with an aura that shines brighter than any sun, taller than any building, stronger than any bridge, man-made but feeling like a God, the spirits could not move his, soul burning so hot that Satan could not yield it, and the world tells him to stop to let go to stop resisting to hold on to enjoy to be held but the child refuses and through his teeth he grunts, "I JUST WANT TO BE Things I want to remember from today:
So, Amy, How was Lion King?It was painful It was emotional It was anger It was sadness It was beauty It was tears It was tired It was exhausting It was awful It was wonderful It was everything I wanted It was everything I never wanted It was angry overworked people It was me trying to prove myself to people who don't care It was my insecurities being reflected back at me by bullies and bitches It was isolating It was community It was a roller coaster of passion and delight and depression It was grief in the flesh It was crying every single time he dipped nala during "Can you feel the love tonight" It was baby elephants and bird ladies and lionesses and silk and puppets and repairs and clipboards and being reminded to do my job that I'm already doing It was passive aggressive and testing boundaries It was verbally abusive and physically abusive It was cold It was hot It was sanitizer and covid tests and kn95 masks and gondalas and road boxes and tanks and dancers breathing harder than I've ever seen someone that fit breathe before It was understudies and swings It was so much makeup It was so many makeup wipes It was quick changes and pre-sets and checking pre-sets It was snaps and buttons and threads It was "Am I good enough" and showing others "I am good enough" It was can you stop being so fucking grumpy, I'm actually enjoying myself and just because you're so damn miserable doesn't mean we have to be It was why does there have to be so much fucking drama in this industry It was "she doesn't even go here" It was "you just got here, can you please not act like you've been in the industry for 50 years?" It was can you fucking calm down It was, why me? Why does she have to pick on me? Why can't people just be happy? Why do they have to take out their rage and depression on me? Why do I just sit here and take it? Why do I comply? Why do I let her bullshit get to me? Why is she allowed to talk shit right to my face and pretend I'm not there? Why does she think she is so much better than I am? It was - No, bitch, I'm not as petty as you are It was - Well, I'd much rather be alone and isolated than in your negative bullshit It was hard It was easy It was a roller coaster of beauty and pain and emotions It was challenging and surprising and confusing and rewarding and dying And I would do it again Maybe not exactly how I did it then But I'd do it again Because they don’t tell you how hard we were hit
Because no matter how much they talk about “the industry” they can’t talk enough about the people Actors Directors Designers Dressers Stage hands Lighting Audio Scenic Costumes Dry Cleaners Seamstresses Tailors Laundry Mats People They are people They didn’t tell you that they had a hard time staffing the show because so many people could not afford to stay unemployed Because they didn’t get benefits or they weren’t enough Because they needed to move on with their lives Because they had to get full-time jobs Because they had to start their own businesses Because they had to recreate themselves Because they had to hide that part of themselves In shame In anger Feeling stupid for doing what they love because at least those who don’t have a job And then when they came back The few who came back They would do anything For anything They don’t care Because they love it Because it is there home Because they were all black at home to bring themselves comfort Because they could never truly leave a place that is always with them But they are still not given a sustainable role so they have to do it in the shadows, In the background, On the side, In between And they are so tired Tired from lack of sleep Tired of the bull shit Tired of the industry Tired of not having constant work Tired of the hustle Tired of the contracts Tired of the no benefits Tired of the part-time/seasonal Tired of the running Just wanting to do what they love and get paid Just wanting to get paid to do what they have trained their whole lives to do To entertain To please To tell a story To suspend disbelief To create miracles To bring smiles to those who have not smiled in so long To bring music To bring life To bring character To bring laughter To bring joy To bring you all the emotions you never knew you had inside To cut you open and rip you a part To give you a safe space to cry To give you a safe space to grieve To give you a safe space to feel all that you need to feel that no one else will let you feel And so when they are asked if they can come in for a 12 hour shift They say yes And when they have to take a covid test every single day They say yes And when they have to wear KN95s They say yes And when they have to have security watch them wash their hands for 60 seconds They say yes And when the rules change They say yes And even if they don’t know when they’re going to get paid They say yes And even if it’s 80 hours a week And even if it’s balanced with a full-time job And even if it’s downtown or 90min away from home Or its in traffic Or it’s the parking ramp Or the starbucks is always closed Or the subway line is long Or they haven’t eaten Or they haven’t sleeped Or they had to go buy black clothes because they threw them all away in grief and pain They say yes Because they have to Because they need to Because they say yes And I wish it was easier And it never should have been like this in the first place And I just want to do my job and enjoy it and not have to squeeze it in like a last minute dentist patient I want to enjoy I want to sit in my home and relax I don’t want to spend the time trying to prove myself to others I don’t want to spend the time trying to prove myself to myself I want to be enough I want to do enough I want to enjoy I don’t want to feel cheap and used like a dollar tree toy So you think about saying no But you find that you can’t let go Because you’re strapped in tight And you feel that bug starting to bite And you just wish you could stop singing, “Let’s go fly a kite” But you can’t So you say yes Today I'm grateful for:
And I'm learning How to settle into stability How to find ease How to be okay with peace How to stop hiding from my feelings How to feel That the only way is through No matter how long you run from your feelings, they are still there until you feel them Sometimes people just don't like you Sometimes, no matter how awesome you are, people don't want to be with you Sometimes, no matter how hard you try, no matter who you try to be, what mold you try to fit, sometimes some things are not meant to be Sometimes you're meant for better things Sometimes you don't know what's good for you Or sometimes you do know what's good for you but you refuse to listen to the wisdom of your heart because it seems so much easier to run, because immediate gratification is . . . immediate. Because they let you. Because they enable your bad behavior. Because feelings are weird. Because sometimes its the chase and I'm the kill. That I do want to live no matter how many times other thoughts pop into my head Maybe I'm not so ready Maybe I am insecure Maybe I am so desperately afraid of being alone that I reach out and grab so tightly that people run away And will they run if you don't chase them? Sometimes you just need to listen to good music Sometimes you just need to take a walk Sometimes trauma f*cking affects you. No matter how hard you try to pretend otherwise. No matter how hard you try to deny it. No matter how bad you want it not to. It does. It just does. And you have to feel it. And you can't deny it. And it's just part of your experience now. And you don't wear too much makeup because you never know when the next time you are going to sporadically burst into tears will be. You don't know why or when or what will trigger it. You just know better than to put on mascara and you hope that the homeless guy on the corner doesn't notice the tears running down your cheeks. And you hide your feelings because you've been taught that feeling is shameful when it's really one of the most beautiful things you can do and the most alive you've felt in a while. And you wonder why your chest hurts or why you want to vomit at the thought. And then you remember that when you cry you heave, like you're trying to suck all the oxygen out of the room, out of you, like if you just breathe deep enough you might be able to swallow the pain, like if you just exhale long enough you can exhale all the memories and never have to see them, taste them, feel them again, but even though it only happened once and they only did it once you've been torturing yourself and living through it day in and day out, constantly, over and over, because your memory is so vivid, because you remember every single word, every move, every feeling, and its the one time you wish you would forget, the one time you think maybe it would be okay if you just woke up tomorrow and didn't know who you are because then you wouldn't have to face it, you could just live and smile and be happy in ignorance, but is ignorance bliss and why do I feel so alone? Because no matter who I try to reach out to, it doesn't seem like enough, it doesn't help, it doesn't fix it, because people can't give me what I have to give myself or maybe because I don't even know what I need but no one seems to either. And I wish I could tell people. I wish I could say hey sorry I'm going through some shit, and I guess I could, but while I want the comfort I also don't want people to see me as this broken glass, I don't want people to treat my like a dying cancer patient, filled with pity and passing me with their eyes pointed at the floor because they can't handle the weight of these emotions. And I tried to stop myself from crying because I thought, "this is not that bad" and so many people have it so much worse than me and my experience, but also - my feelings are enough - my feelings are enough to be worthy of tears. You know how I know? Because they come. They come when I least expect them. Do you know what triggered them today? A road-side digital bulletin board. You know what it said? Nothing. It was just an image. An image of a door, slowly opening to reveal a beautiful Christmas tree inside. A door opening. An opening. And it was like the universe was saying, "It's okay." It's as if my ancestors were trying to hold me, so desperately trying to hold me and comfort me and say, "it's okay, Amy, there is so much more for you, so much, so much beauty, so much love, it's all waiting for you. Right through this door." But it's like I'm clawing at a brick wall trying to get through, trying to find an opening, trying to find some place to breathe, like I'm in a basement, or I think I am, and I can't breathe, and I can feel the world shrinking, I can feel the oxygen leaving my lungs, leaving the room, and there must be a hole, somewhere, somewhere I can find just one last breath, somewhere, and so I claw at the caulk in between the bricks, searching from some crack that some middle school girl carved into the wall, an x or an o, a poorly shaped heart, something, but there is nothing, and it's getting so dark, is it getting darker? Is that possible? I didn't think there was any sunlight at all, where am I? How did I get here, and why is there no one around? Why won't anyone help me? Can't they see me? Does anyone see me? Can't they hear me crying? Can't they hear me? And all I can do is hold onto myself and cry and try to be enough. For myself. For the world. For this moment. And I cry. And I cry. And I whisper, "I want to live. I want to live." over and over. to remind myself. I want to live. But if I would just look around. If I would just turn around. If I would just look up, or down. Anywhere. If I would just stop clawing at the wall, I would see that I am surrounded. By so many People Angels Spirits Space Air Windows Realms Doors The entire universe Waiting Waiting for me If I'd just open the door Please see me. Please. |
About the Author:Amy Abrigo is an actor, director, writer, and much more currently living in her hometown of San Antonio, Texas. Archives
April 2024
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