Without a nautical-striped shirt

The velvet curtains are opening. I catch sight of a gap, unveiling the stage I will stand upon in society. How do I even attempt to prove my worthiness to the judges of my future? No, wait, close the curtains, I am unprepared! No no, beyond the boundary of possibilities, the show must go on. Time itself, the curtains never cease. However brief the time I possess, I attempt to recall, remember routines I have worked tirelessly to prepare. Oh what routines? For there is no routine which can sustain, uphold me through life awaiting me once the curtains open. For I am ill-fated to participate in a competition of impromptu acting. Unrehearsed, unscripted, unstudied, all is improvised. On this stage, completely and utterly vulnerable I am. Moments left, shall I run? Run, making futile efforts to escape my future? For I just had an unfortunate revelation of the fact which has eluded me for so long until today; stage fright.