I go unseen and mostly unheard, blending in with the other lowly moving set pieces, be they wooden or human, Sneaking furtive glances from behind thick, musty velvet curtains, climbing chairs backstage, singing and dancing along in the dressing room: it's all me, it's what I do. Show up when called, disappear silently and quickly, the living ghost of the stage.

There are times when I stand out, times when I get lost in the sea of motion and lights. And the more common times when I am up to par, fitting right in with no issues.

I wish it happened more often, the common parts, I mean. But it rarely does. I'll laugh to loudly, sing to loudly, move wrong, speak at the wrong time, say the wrong thing. Normally, I'll stick out just because I've never fit in. Society itself spurns me and I get moved to the back, just another piece of moving scenery, coming and going with practiced efficiency, both overlooked and underestimated.

One day, this won't be me.