Question and answer. Old ways are the best ways.

Dear reader,

We had the most interesting conversation with Nadia the other day - about what we want out of life. We both arrived at this crossroads, where you need to make "grown-up" choices society wants you to make. We need to determine how we're gonna pay tax.

Theatre is such a nice hobby - it changed both mine and Nadia's life. But does it? - pay tax I mean. In Switzerland, or in any other country, theatre is such a difficult job to live out of. Nadia told me once, about her experience as the assistant of a casting agent in London: "I admire them so much. These people, these actors who know they absolutely can NOT do anything else with their life."

But we can - both her and me. We have literature - university, business, other carriers possible. And the taunting question remains: if you make theatre your job, would it be less rewarding? Less fun? More stressful? - Probably. But maybe not. We'd need to try to know.

Rosencrantz How could I know, we haven't gotten there yet.

Guildenstern Then what are we doing here, I ask myself.

Rosencrantz You might well ask.

Guildenstern We better get on.

Rosencrantz You might well think.

Guildenstern We better get on!

Rosencrantz On where?

Guildenstern Forward.

So here you are. And you have to go forward.

But maybe we don't wanna pay tax like other people. Maybe we don't want a house in the suburbs, two kids, a car and a husband. Not yet anyway.

The real question is: what do you want out of life?

Some people want money and security. Some people want happiness and sex. Some people want kids and health.

We want love and passion.

Well, at least we've figured out that much.

But now what? - Every story told backwards always seems to make perfect sense. In ten years, I'll be talking about staging "Ros and Guil Are Dead" and I'll be going like: "You see, I totally knew this would lead me here."

Or maybe I'd have forgotten about Ros and Guil. They're full of themselves these two, aren't they? And they are traitors after all - the bad guys. And, most of all, they are dead. 

Guildenstern ... you can't act death. The fact of it is nothing to do with seeing it happen--it's not gasps of blood and falling about--that isn't what makes it death. It's just a man failing to reappear, that's all--now you see him, now you don't, that's the only thing that's real: here one minute and gone the next and never coming back--an exit, unobstrusive and unnanounced, a disappearance gathering weight as it goes on, until, finally, it is heavy with death.

We're in front of choices all the time. What makes the difference is the ones you make.

And what makes the difference, is how and why we decide to make them. We might not make what seems like the "right" choice at the "right" time to other people-but we know what we want out of life. And if getting those things makes us take different, cheaper, harsher, slower roads with bumps on the way and cart wheels you have to learn to change... that's just fine. We know we'll get there - and we don't care if people don't understand why.

The Player We're actors. We're the opposite of people.

So thank you, dear reader, for following us this far,

And remember: always keep questioning. Old ways are the best ways.

Love,

Guil