I m a g i n a t i o n .
It most certainly is a powerful thing, isn't it?
To have thought of doing something outside of the norm, going against the grain with utter motivation and perseverance; I'd say this was the entirety of my life. From the first day I took a breath on this earth, it was surely destined that I would endure the same experience as everyone else, as everyone else who was experiencing the same thing as me - experiencing the same thing with me.
A laugh escaped my lips.
"Endured" would be the wrong word, I suppose. Life isn't merely the downcast of the world all about. At least, that's what I grew up thinking. And, truth be told, I've lived it out since this day. From my youth, I can't recall a single day when I let defeat ultimately win. My childhood was rough, my upbringing as a teenager was chaotically unstable - even adulthood had its trials and tribulations.
To say the very least, I've [ e n g a g e d ] in it all.
"I don't know what to write."
I remembered the days, back in high school, when I started my whole niche. Writing - it was my escape from what I didn't want to face, from the world and myself, ideally. I started these abstract and optimistic "letters" as a sense of duty to others; to help them with my words when my actions could not reach them. Evidently, it gave me a mask to hide behind and a purpose to keep living.
Seeing smiles on others' faces made me feel as though I were doing the right thing.
But, this time, I really didn't know what to write. The expectations were most certainly as high as the sky could reach and even beyond that space. I rolled up my sleeves, held my pencil in hand, and took to my old-fashioned approach.
My doctor had told me that sitting before a screen for some odd number of hours wasn't entirely good for me. Looking down at my tight grip on my pencil through my brown-rimmed reading glasses, I gathered she was right. My eyes could use a bit more of that carrot juice my mom loved to make.
Maybe they'd expect something short. Maybe they'd want me to go on about nothing - just accept the award and walk off stage after offering my generic gratitude. But, what if that permitted the inability to attain any further awards? Where would that put me, if I tried to take the quick route, to cheat them all - all the people who've helped me get this far?
Not to mention the fact that if I were to simply appear with standard response, my face would dissolve just as quickly as my name would.
I touched the tip of my pencil to the paper again, but nothing came.
Thinking of my past would dig up great trenches, three solid decades, soon to be a fourth after my approximate novel would be released. And then, after another decade, half a century - more than half of my life - would have passed me by.
I withdrew my pencil.
It was a frightening thought.
Looking at the wrinkles on my hands, their weathered yet conditioned appearances proving me justice in producing percussion in idle thought.
Light gleamed off the bracelet on my left wrist, as well as the wristwatch above it, and the silver band on a digit. A smile graced my lips, just as the thought graced my mind and soul. My life had most certainly skyrocketed since my biggest flux of life. Musical and performance careers most certainly had not died as of yet, though I'd taken a bit of an interest in re-pursuing my passion of writing; not too many of my fans were upset at this, even, and so I got to spend more time with my friends and family.
"Maybe looking through my old works will jog something."
Funny how I used to say that as well when I was blanking for entries. I never did, though. I knew what to think of, and, should it not have come to me right away, I just kept typing, kept thinking until my mind generated something.
To my left, present via my organized desk, was a black, leather notepad. It was a planner of sorts, though I kept in it a log of my screenplays, my movies, my songs, albums, and musical collaborations. It was a list of my history. And, so far at about forty years of life on earth, it wasn't too shabby, if I do say so myself.
Coming right out of college, I would find myself floundering with the rest of the bohemians in the late 20-teens, hoping, praying to get a big break. Of course, it would never come easy without dedication and work, something I'd learned to embrace all my years of schooling. Ironically enough, e n g a g i n g life did me a world of good for myself. And, in such an experience of benefits and progress, I would tell others to embrace, enjoy, and - ENGAGE - life. They didn't shy away from my advice.
I'm proud to say, though, while I was digging through the earth's core for potential places of employment, to further my passions, I maintained my communications with most of my good friends and managed to ensure that I had a direction to head in. My minor in Journalism led me into a "dog-eat-dog" realm of writing. I was not entirely prepared for it, but it would be where I met one of my greatest friends and best partner associates. His name, I'll never forget.
Just like my friends from high school - Erik Garnes, contemporary musician extraordinaire, helping me help us spur off our musical career; Alexander Quow, official announcer of many sports events as well as a popular television face, assisting me in promotional and advertising and network - this friend from my work experience would make it easier for me.
"You've got a good soul, kid," he told me.
My eyes widened. I switched focuses from my journal to the parchment before me. Leaning forward, I hurried to sketch that phrase down at the top, and left it in quotes. Looking at the first line I had in the paper, it'd be... more or less of a challenge to get it off its heels and have the speech, the emphasis of my gratitude, reach a reasonable length with astounding content.
"Let's see..." Looking back to my journal, my thoughts returned to my work-partner. He told me that he never looked to become a Journalist, though he most certainly was more interested in the current events than myself. The politics, the foreign affairs, the technological advancements, the ethical sophistication - all of it suited him better than I ever thought I would want.
My eyes widened as another line of his trickled from my lips, soon to be apparently swallowed by my whisker-beard when I pulled my lips into my mouth.
"Take it all head on - fix yourself, square off, and engage in whatever they throw at you. It's not your job to love what is wrong with the world - it's your job to let people know, and start the renovation."
How was I supposed to put that into words? I put it down anyway. Some good speeches start with quotes from different people. The only difference with mine, as of yet, was that the quotes only came from one person. So far, anyhow.
I thought about what he meant. What he could have possibly been thinking of for it to sound so generic that it basically applied to everything in my life. At the time, that is. Life was dealing me blows, and I didn't think I'd manage to take the brunt of any further. My elder brother still had yet to contact us, even upon the days of my graduation from high school and college; my father was steadily growing ill due to the poison that was his blood; my family members were suffering through their own burdens and sins - though there was nothing I could do to help them.
I was offered to travel near and far to help other individuals who less fortunate, more fortunate, and just as fortunate as I was - as I had always prayed for them to be blessed and what have you - though, I couldn't help everyone all at once. I couldn't give them anything I couldn't give to my own family, my own flesh and blood.
To say the least, my life was just as tumultuous entering university as it was exiting.
I wrote the word "Life."
With a capital 'L' and a period. Just like that.
I looked at it for a second longer than I had anticipated. What did it really mean? I had lived my life so far, I had performed on Broadway more times than I had digits to count on, I had been in a fair amount of movies as minor and staple roles, I had produced feel-good music with Erik and made changes in the world as we had anticipated. Though, as I stared at this word, I wondered what it was all for.
Was it for the family I had? My brothers and sisters? My predecessors? My own household and descendants? Two elegant girls and two virtuous boys now in their years of schooling, experiencing the same things I had - they were my kin, they were the reason I woke up now in the mornings. Before them, I had other reasons to wake up. Perhaps it were these reasons why I did the things I did.
Perhaps it were these things that defined my life.
I glanced at my watch. About half an hour before the event. I needed to have this done in a handful of minutes so that I could proofread it and dissect it and make any amends, as I usually did with my literature work.
"To get where I am today,"I started,
"I had to take a step backwards. I had to take a step backwards and see the greater picture. It wasn't about me - it was never about just me; it still isn't about me today. I came to understand the meanings of certain concepts that weren't done justice with just a word labeling them for identity's purpose."
I grinned. Something about this speech was going to make me feel proud as I recited it with definite passion.
"I started out as a nobody, as everyone does. I never became a somebody, nor did I ever stop being a nobody - in fact, I maintained being me the whole time. And, to be frank, it's been the best way to go for all my thirty-eight years of life.
"I always aspired to be a performer, someone to captivate and evidently use that to advantages that were not greedy, but selfless and compassionate - to better myself to change the world. With all the auditions I've been discouraged from and the strangers who've said very malicious things of the characters I've portrayed, the ideals I've held, the things I've done... It's unreal. This whole experience.
"I didn't win this award. I didn't earn it. I didn't do anything to deserve it. I've been acknowledged for doing things I've always done. For sharing with the world when I had little-to-nothing. For being acknowledged for intending to instill motivation and perspectives into individuals. For [[ ~ e-n-g-a-g-i-n-g ]] in life."
It was sloppy penmanship. I looked over it a bit, added a few lines to wrap things up, identifying close persons to me who were invited to the event and would be present and thanking them [ and many more individuals ] for giving me everything I've ever needed of them.
"...Hopefully my life won't effect you in any derogatory ways. Instead, I'd much rather if you take everything from my mistakes, my beneficial decisions, and mold them to your advantage. Thank you all for coming tonight, and God Bless. Thank you again."
I would be holding my first, golden batch of awards altogether. It was more or less of a "private" event, for individuals who've received awards for more than one discipline of arts. It was a stretch to even dream that I would have an Academy Award when I was younger, looking forward to my future, but when I had been given notice to attend for reception of my Academy, Grammy, and Tony Awards.
My colleagues would hold their seventh or eighth in each respective designation, though I'd brandish my firsts with pride and humility that was unwavering. And when I staggered off, attempting to stuff my speech back inside my blazer pocket, I'd laugh with the esquire that life, indeed, was good.
From that month, April, back in 2012, I had looked at my life, looked forward at my life differently.
And I had resolved to never let anything in my path stop me. I would engage in life to the best of my abilities, and embrace who I was, what I've done, and where I was going with my entire being.
<3 ~ Monty.
=]
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