I was asked by an actor today why I’m always working? Why I’m always writing something, why even in rehearsals, I’m creating something on the breaks…
And I told him.
“Because I’m gonna die.”
I’m always aware I am going to die. I think about this all the time. Death is the weird thing that takes away everything- it doesn’t matter how smart you were, how much you did- in the end you will be dust. You’ll be like a million others who aspired- you’ll written a few plaYs, or books, or whatever, you’ll have acted, you’ll have tried…
You’ll have fought the abyss.
Every time I write, every time I wake, most days while I walk around town I think, I am finite.
I write because I need something that says”I was here.” I wish I didn’t care.
In the end what I leave behind will mostly be ignored.
But at least now I can pretend…
Words are immortal.
They aren’t. Thank God I work in make believe.