Sometimes I live too much in my head!

(Below is just me pondering. It's long and a babbley (yes I know it's not a word) so feel free to ignore it, and move on)

“All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances...”
William Shakespeare - “As You Like It”

Men and women are merely players? Men and women play their roles. Of course those roles have been changing, and will undoubtedly continue to change. What is your role? Who is your character? Life is a journey, to discover this. We fall in and out of character. Some people adhere to a specific role, without exploring what else is out there. Kind of like a really long run on Broadway. Imagine playing the same character and saying the same lines, day in and day out for year? I worked retail, it was painful!

As much as I believe I personally have rejected the “mainstream”, I think I am coming to the realization of my journey of “self-discovery” that perhaps I have played it a little closer to the script than I was willing to admit. My knee jerk reaction is to reject this naval gazing fascination that society today seems to have, ultimately resulting in their blaming of everyone else for what they see as “defects” in their personality.

Are any of us as simple as the written words on a page? Even the actor knows that in order to truly bring the character to life that they must dig deeper and discover their motivations, fears, passions etc. So, when you are asked to describe yourself, where do you begin? The obvious, physical appearance? I suppose I could quote Shakespeare again ("Beauty is bought by judgement of the eye,Not utter'd by base sale of chapmen's tongues"). I feel more inclined to ramble however.

What has brought me to these musings? I'm not really sure. The last little while I seem to have hit some kind of wall mentally, emotionally, spiritually? Or it could just be that I wish I had air conditioning. Perhaps I'm working through something. Or am I just obsessing? Am I spending too much time in my own head? Oh no! Have I begun to ponderously search my own lint filled underbelly? I am not morose, or depressed. Actually I seem to be quite exhilarated by this journey. I'm also not manic, but decidedly distracted. Maybe it's gas. Maybe it's hormones. Once again, I may just need to invest in central air.

What is my role? Who is my character? As to roles, I abjectly reject all traditional attempts to define that. I am not wife or mother. I am nurturing, I suppose, but not so much with people. Loyal? Sure. Then again it could just be apathy. Who am I? A little bit of everything? Nothing concrete. Something or someone always evolving. Labels are limiting, yet we still rely on them in order to make order in our world. I can talk to you about very non-traditional “women” things like, plumbing, and heavy equipment, cars, and sports. In the same conversation I can talk in depth about Classical Music, theater, art, and literature. I can be crude and banal, and astound and bedazzle you with my vocabulary (my grammar and spelling on the other hand *shrug*). I love to be outdoors, to sweat and to work out. I also love to be inside with my computer and watch back episodes of the latest and greatest series on HBO.

What does any of this mean? Not a thing. Really in the grand scheme of things, my little reflection means nothing. This is likely nothing more than the effects of too much caffeine (blasphemy!), too much humidity, too much time on my hands, and too little rest.