The Flight of the Rocketman

Travelers, there is no path. Paths are made by walking. -- Antonio Machado

I spent most of the week finishing a script that refused to fix itself up. The deadline was fast approaching and the Director and Producer kept inquiring over the piece and I would just stare and stare at the blank computer screen and find myself without any drive to start writing.

But eventually I did. I always seem to have a reserve of energy and determination at crunch time. It saved my butt was again but I really can't afford to keep doing that. It's not professional, it isn't responsible.

I find myself at a point when things are ending. Ending of a particular mood or atmosphere. One of my shows is ending its season and will not return. Another of my shows might not come back at all and I find myself trying to figure out what happens next. Amongst my friends, we've sort of reached a point where we know we must turn back or travel through a different road. If we stay on this one, it will tear us apart as individuals. I've run my good fortune through its final legs and must see if I've made something for myself, made good use of the time I was given.

This era, if I may call it that is coming to a close and a new one must begin. For every ending, a new beginning arises. One always does. I wonder what it would be like.

With the script over, I feel like I can try to regain a semblance of the life I was living back and then, I find myself staring at the end and awaiting for something new. I don't know why but I feel hopeful. I've never been very sentimental, as a person. I have gotten used to good byes and they don't really scare me. I've never been one who was afraid of moving on.

Maybe that's why I find myself listening to Leaving Las Vegas a lot. Sheryl Crow's song about moving on and realising that luck can only take you so far and when the cards are down and you've lost all your money; when the shit hits the fan and you're out on the dumps, you pack up your bags and move on. Hope springs eternal, she sings but I find it sarcastic more than a declaration of some truth. Hope is picking up the shattered pieces and moving on and fixing it in a better place.

After all, we all can't stay in one place forever.

I look at the clouds and the full moon that is ending and see a glimmer. Hope springs eternal. It never ends as long as we realise that when things end, something else begins.