All I got is time...

I'm having one of those days, ladies and gents. I know I am far from old, and the ravages of age have not even thought of making an appearance on my visage..however........................I'm feeling at present like the world is passing me by. Its been nearly 2 weeks since I got back from vacation, and I'm just coming down from the high; the high being the energy, culture, unique experiences that I was momentarily a part of. It almost feels like it was a dream. And in a weird way, am feeling like a Cinderella amongst the ashes. A brainy Cinderella, mind you, with a fantastic haircut and Armani specs. My mind bursts with ideas for myself, and I try with the precious little spare time I have outside the restaurant to fill it with intellectual pusuits. Right now I've begun "The Birth of Tragedy" by Neitzsche. Its not an easy read mind you, but I am making my way through it without too much trouble. He discusses the origins of Drama as we know it, and its fascinating shit. Although it would only make sense to someone who has read ancient Greek plays and have a fair working knowledge of Greek mythology, culture, and rituals. I guess my disadvantage of being in this town was made painfully apparent the other day. I had a guy come in who only stops in for coffee. He doesn't speak much English, but speaks Spanish and French fluently. He doesn't say much, and always comes in when I'm there, paying for his coffee by depositing a twoonie in my hand so he can briefly touch it, which kinda unnerves me a little...you know...personal bubble that has expanded somewhat since the Ostrich. Anyhoo..he gets his coffee, and I sit at one table and begin reading my book. He asks in his halting English where he could sit. I told him he could sit anywhere he liked. He sits across from me. I ignore him and continue reading. He asks after a minute of silence what I was reading. I showed him the front of the book. He shrugs. I said "It's by Neitzsche." He shrugs. I say, "He was a German philosopher." Again the comic shrug. I try to explain to him in simple terms exactly what I was reading. Turns out that was a wasted effort..all I got were confused looks and exaggerated shrugging of the shoulders. I guess he didn't read much. So I gave up and opened the book again and shortly thereafter he leaves.
I've noticed that I haven't had many intelligent conversations in town. Papa Lou used to have interesting discussions of life, politics, religion, some philosophy, but he's dead now. My parents are good to talk to when it comes to the war thats going on and other world conflicts. But there is no one my age here that can keep up with me so to speak, and its driving me a tad crazy. My aunt and I trade books back and forth, especially fiction, history, and anthropological studies. But she lives a ways away, and we don't get much chance to discuss books we've both read because she works as much as me.
God...my Kingdom already.....
And there are my dreams...dreaming..its all I do. Brings to mind when I worked as a housekeeper in a hospital. I'd clean rooms and I'd be in my mind, imagining myself on a stage, and knowing that that was what made me feel complete...whole even. The daydreaming happens now almost all the time..I can be fixing up a pizza and my mind wanders to performing, or thinking up scenes I could be writing for a play...or directing. And yet I know I'm in the wrong place, but I cannot leave Mom here by herself. And so I feel like I'm on some sort of desert island...lost in a sea of mediocrity. Perhaps others here are content with their lives. In a way I long for contentment, but theres this drive I cannot explain...its been with me since childhood. Theres no rhyme or reason for it....al I know is when I am doing what I love I'm fine..when I'm not I am restless....and I feel the drive in the pit of my stomach, urging me to move forward. This feeling is much stronger now. I don't know where it'll take me....instinct has always led me..I follow. I have gotten sidetracked true..but ended up on track again. Right now it feels likeI'm on the racetrack, and have driven into a pitstop to change the tires and stuff. Meanwhile all the other cars are whizzing by...they've become a blur where I stand, motionless. I guess I'm asking a question no one can answer except for me and God. But I felt like I needed to get it out. Anyone out there who has gone through what I am experiencing right now? Anyone actually at that crossroad? Any advice? I could use a friendly word or two. Drop me a line if you're around.
Cheers.