Roots, or lacking them

"I drove past the pyramids on my way to the studio"

When I say things like that, my life seems exciting and exotic. But
words are as deceiving as appearances.

In reality - the view of the pyramids is partially blocked by
unfinished, grey buildings - their windows gaping out at millions of
years worth of history and sand. Ancient civilization growing out of
modern decay.

In reality - once I reach the studio, I sit for two hours in a small
air conditioned office, watching on a 10 inch monitor as two men clean
the floors.

The studio is next to a stagnant stream, and the smell rises past the
crumbling brick wall, reminding us that we are on the edge of a city
that is slowly rotting at the seams - the outer pages curling into
themselve turning yellow with age and grime.

And I have felt for the past six years, that I live on the edge of this
city.

There are people on the borders with me. Living in a city that would
readily spit us out if it could open its mouth to scream, or lift its
arms from under the bodies and sweat and waste. But that is one thing
this God forsaken city and I have in common. We are both tied
down.

There are only a few things that keep me here. But they are the kinds
of things that could see to it that I never leave. Family and friends.
Guilt and fear.

So without a nation, I remain in this one, because I have no choice.
And I do the things that are expected of me. But there are always the
small rebellions. To anyone else they seem insignificant. Meaningless.
But to me - they are what keep me sane. My mother had always dreamed
that I would study medicine and go on to become the first renowned
Egyptian female surgeon.

But that life wasn't for me - a life of telling people that they were
dying, while trying to numb the pain with chloroform and medical terms
that they wouldn't understand. But I would have understood - and who
would have numbed my pain?

Instead - I chose the one life where I wouldn't even have to think
about what I wanted or felt or thought. Because I could pick up someone
else's persona - wear it till I perfected each stance, look and
expression. And then just as easily discard it for another.

I chose the theatre.