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Even when I lose I'm winning.

Wandering around backstage, I feel like I'm in the way. There's no where for me in the audience now that the auditorium is full. I don't exactly have a ticket and all the spectators are seated.

I find a stool in the corner and watch as a parade of performers prepare themselves for the big night. Some sing, some dance and some are good talkers. I know them all but I don't want what they have.

They live in moments, surrounded by strangers. Because they give so much of themselves away, they require the oxygen of those around them, floating on the top water.

I grow impatient, waiting.

Sighing and exhaling forcefully causes my hair to flip up, creating the illusion of slightly waving at the curtain operator. His smile is slightly maniacal as adrenaline propels him into the shadow of the spotlight. The show has begun and I'm stuck here on this stool until the end. I hunch because there's no back on my stool, wishing I wouldn't have settled but I can't have EVERYthing.

As the traveler curtain is raised and lowered on actors and dancers, I smile at the antics, mostly sincere.
I'm moved by the emotion.
I love the passion.
I crane my neck and cup my ear.

In the dark corner, it's difficult to see and hear how others do and I'm weary from sitting. The backstage hustle and bustle, the hushed whispers, it's all so frantically distracting.

I like a show but maybe I'll just catch this one next time around, I tell myself, as I amble off to find the most delicious cup of coffee ever.


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