From success you get a lot of things, but not that great inside thing that love brings you.
I spent my life as a performing artist, most of that time as an actor. Life in theatre means that you work in very close, intimate relationships with other people. Wherever I went I carried with me the constant frustrating fantasy that I was going to make a family out of whatever company I was working with.
I had no family growing up. It was just my mother and I. We did not care for each other much and she was relieved when I finally left. My siblings were so much older than I that they were never around unless they had to be. Any child can tell the difference between real time and obligatory time.
Any possibility, if it ever existed, for a home and a family was spintered on all sides, in all directions. So I was familyless, unfamilied. I know there are people who say a family can be an aggravation if it's a bunch of people who don't get along. But I have also witnessed families that were so close the moment by moment activities were examples of love that was so omnipresent no one noticed it. I once knew a family with four brothers who were fond of addressing each other by their last names, "Mr. __". It didn't matter who answered. They were all attuned to each other.
My search for a family in the theatre world was fruitless, of course. For one thing everyone I worked with had a family somewhere else, they certainly didn't need me in it. And no one understood what I wanted, The young women thought I was coming on to them for sexual reasons, and so did some of the young men. Some of the older folks were also suspicious of my advances for other reasons. I was searching for mothers and fathers, for brothers and sisters, for sons and daughters. It was a pointless search. And there was always an end date. an out clause, closing night, a time to move on.
I shared an apartment with a guy for a while who seemed glad to have me there. We developed, I thought, a fraternal relationship. We were both actors of about the same age. But he met someone, a woman, and wanted his space, so I left.
I kept thinking that someday I would meet another vagabond who was on the same trail with the same need. It didn't happen.
Now I'm 71. My phone still doesn't work. Even though I have some dear invisible friends at the other end of the email world. I live alone. I never found my family.
DB - The Vagabond
This contest is open for the next 6 days.
Choose as many numbers as you want and fill in the blanks
Winners will be posted on the evening of April 4.
The decisions of the nasty biased judge are final. Prizes will awarded on the basis of originality and whatever makes me laugh.
3 ENTRIES SO FAR
On the first day of April my true love gave to me