Why Chekhov Was An Idiot

Black and white.

It seems I'd be able to see them. I know what's right, what's wrong. But what do I know about the middle stuff? The gray?

I have found that nothing that happens to me has the ability to affect me in a purely good or bad way. And so, I am frustrated. Everything has its downside or, for you optimists, its silver lining. How do I deal with what should be good turning bad? I'm honestly getting very tired of disappointment. I'm afraid, though, that if I constantly expect the good things to turn out bad, that I'll never enjoy anything and I'll lose hope.

Take, for instance, Lady Macbeth. I've never had a significant female role on stage before. I've always been overshadowed by more important roles, and that's fine. I love Shakespeare. I want to play her, and I want to do it well. I want to be challenged. I want to experience being significant. And now I have the opportunity. I was cast as Lady Macbeth (in an adaptation of sorts, but still Shakespeare).

A seemingly happy, good thing, right?

Of course not.

Due to scheduling and personal reasons, it might not work out. Gosh, I want it to. A lot.

Next, we have the boy. There's always a boy. I've found them to be sorry things to peg one's hopes on, but still I persist. He finally asked me out. Himself, not through anyone as I expected. I was really happy. Really, really happy.

But also due to scheduling and personal reasons, it might not work out. I might never get the chance to say yes to him. I want to, though. A lot.

It seems that while I'm sucking the marrow out of life, I'm choking on the bone. I want to live and experience and commit myself. I want to thoroughly enjoy my last few months at NCCS. But now it's getting in the way of the things I really want to spend my time doing.

So, no, Chekhov. We cannot draw from personal experience to elicit only one emotion for a scene. Single emotions do not exist. The coin has two sides. Deal with it.