Sunday, November 21, 2010

I've Been Thinking.

You know, acting is really no fun. No fun at all. Infact, it is a massive burden. Every act of acting is like a contridiction. I do this thing on stage, or I do this thing in rehearsal, and it's perfect. But in no way is it ever what I wanted. I can never create what it is that I need at the moment.



There are sudden spasms of inspiration, like a lusty breeze, that intice me. Be an actor. Create your art, finally. Go! Be an actor, live through theatre, discover!

Then a pull. Back, no. Not ready. Not good enough. Not really. Go. Go, back. To where it is you came from. You know that is not the thing you need. Now, go! Be an academic. Be a scholar, build a career for...

Money.

That's it. Stop it. You can't be who you think you ought to because you might not get the money. You need. You see.

That's what acting can do. It isn't any fun. Accept for when it's absolutely everything you consider necessary to be living as a human being in this place. I feel like a scorned lover who chases after my beloved with blind desires, unsure at times, but always chasing. Chasing my beloved. I want a chance with you! You go to everyone else so easy it seems...so come, find your way to me! I want to examine you, dear, let me in.

I'm looking for a college where I can act and learn and be.

Saturday, August 28, 2010

Nope! Nope! Nope!...and more NOPE

Finding myself in a dark room. Wishing that meant photography but of course you little cusser, it do not. Nope. And I wonder why I feel so melancholy sometimes. I miss you gehl, I miss youuu. Chelsea Wildflower. Your name is freaking Wildflower. Gawd, that's unique. I hate that people don't understand me. You know, that's all I really want most times. Just. See, you don't have to pretend to be understanding. If you look at me and be, it'll happen. I'm watching The Sweetest Thing with Cameron Diaz and Christina Applegate and some other chick who wasn't considered famous enough to make title actor...what is this movie about anyway? It's kind of depressing. Cameron, stop talking. Wow, what a jerk. You don't wanna read this. I'm stopping myself.

LOVE. is, important...?
I don't understand.
I hate myself right now...no, I'm not suicidal.

This movie is about love. It is making my jealous. :(
I'm leaving now...
later.

HAAAAA! OMGEEEEE SHE LEFT HIMMMM.
wait, no...
okay.
I officially hate this bye.
no mom you can't read it.

Thursday, July 15, 2010

THANK YOU PLACES

Collision has inspired a change in my life. I have a fear of people but I know it is useless. And Collision has helped me to be okay with being afraid. Like Growtowski helped me with my fear of movement. I move all the time now. Fuck, I don't dance. I still hate dancing. I don't want to dance because I hate how my stomach and thighs jiggle. But I move. And Collision has pushed me towards the part of my life that wants to know people and understand things I don't usually want to understand. I want to be able to be okay with not knowing everything. I don't know much, and I realize that it really doesn't matter...so long as I can learn from other people. It's really disappointing how much of my teen years have been wasted sulking in self pitty. Shit, I've only got two more years to be a teenager. I better use it up. I want to soke up the world. I'm terrified of life, YES, but fuck that I don't care I'm still gunna jump of this damn building without a parachute. But all I wanna know is...


Will you come with me?

Thursday, July 1, 2010

Theatre Rat

I'm loving loving loving acting through the summer. This just feels right. So I won't be dead when August comes around. I'm writing so much and sharing it with others and it feels good. Thank you for this opportunity.
I'm in love with my life. It's so beautifully human.

Saturday, June 26, 2010

When in Doubt, be "Over There"

Every thing's jumbling around in my dippy head. I have thoughts of every thing. I want to do everything that I want to do but I just want to sleep more than that. I am waiting too much. That's my problem, I've become comfortable with waiting. And watching. And not doing anything about anything. I sit and watch things happen, wishing it was happening to me. But look at me. Where am I//what the hell am I doing? Shit. But sitting on my bum and whining like hell that nobody loves me and how badly I wanna go home. Shut up. I just wanna tell myself to shut up. Ha! If you want the damn boy to pay you attention then don't walk away in the middle of conversation. Yeah your fucking insecure who the FUCK isn't? I bet if you weren't always trying to predict people's actions, you'd be successful. Stop feeling guilty. You need to get out of your head.
I have to just go know and. Be

Tuesday, June 22, 2010

For the Benefit of Chelsea

HEY MAARIYAH, THIS IS CHElSEA I DONT KNOW WHAT TO DO. THIS TIME BABY
I'LL BE BURNING THROUGH

Monologue.

Susan:

I like old people, Mr. Slade. They appeal to me. Not because of the
fortune I extort from them or the salary I command as a nurse. Not
because I enjoy seeing doctors pack them in four and five to a room,
neglect them, tie them down, leave them in their own waste, and
frighten them I'm ways you and I will never understand until we face
old age ourselves. It's in spite of all that, Mr. Slade, they still
appeal to me. Why? Because at the edge of existance, in this world
they are still the most gallant people I know. And when a lady like
Mrs. Slade and a gentleman like Colonel Runney find each other, I
watch them grow younger! You can scoff at it and deny it but I say let
them keep their love!

Bliss >>> Insanity

Start
Roll around and shit
Form flower
Totum
Trust Circle
Collapse-Cat kicks
Floor Hand Flower/ Duets
Drag partner off stage...struggle

The Great Discovery

1. He's proactive, professional, witty, dedicated, personable, doesn't
sweat the small stuff, compassinate, reliable, gives of himself to
help others, a positive thinker, an amazing teacher, flexible...
2. •My mom: She's an author. She's had two New York Time's Best
Sellers and won many prizes, honours, and awards. She does
Psychological studies with teens and workshops to help them understand
themselves and how to be the best they can be. She also writes a
column for Instyle about Women and the many problems they face.
She is married and likes to travel with her husband, for relaxation or
volunteer work. She's the mother of Maariyah Faa'izah.
•Maariyah Faa'izah: A well-noted indie film actor who was recently
nominated for a golden-globe in a film that won the Film Festival de
Cannes, and will soon reach theatres nationally. Grounded in
traditional theatre, she's been apart of the Idiosyncrasies Theatre
Company in New York for the past 6 years. She is not just an actress,
however, and has published a few books on photography and poetry. Her
photography has been featured in many projects and portfolios,
including exhibitions at the J. Paul Getty Museum of Los Angeles and
the de Young Museum of San Fansisco. She recently has begun work on a
collection of life stories from various people told through
photographs, prose, and poetry.
Her husband and three children live in New York now, but also have a
home in San Fransisco,CA; Pheonix, AZ; and Atlanta,GA.
She loves cooking, drawing, attending lectures, participating in
volunteer work, helping others reach their potential, and playing piano.
•My Dad: Retired. Living out his dreams. He went back to college to
get his degree in engineering and has invented a few new items, which
were successfully recieved in the public arena. He has re-married
since Alicia, to a former university teacher. She's a warm personality
and she and dad travel the world with their terrior smith Rocky. He's
happy.
•Raahaad: He's still a gamer. But diffrently, he's a very very very
wealthy game mogul. He started off making the codecs for games, then
began collaborating with a group of other gaming engineers in college.
One trio was a hit: Rashaad, Victür Vinassi, & Ian Evans. They created
a few games together that all went to E3 and were nominated for
awards. They created VEIRVE, a gaming label (created by jumbling their
initials) that has taken off and become a household name.
•Amber Troi: She's a Music Therapist and works with the peace core.
Her life is busy, but so is mine. And we still hang out.
•Chelsea: Shes an awesome soul.
3. To save anyone's life.
To achieve nirvana.
For 6 million dollars or more.
To meet a man who loves me.
To go to the college of my choice.
To allieviate a fear of heights.
(I'd need a harness for this!)
4. One: Read
Two: Sleep
Three: Laugh
Four: Photograph things/people/places
Five: Feel attractive in my clothes
Six: Sing loud when I'm alone
Seven: Daydream
Eight: Go shopping without limits
Nine: Listen to oral stories
Ten: Look at life in different ways
5. The first thing that comes to mind. They know me in different ways
than I know myself.
6.

Ramblings & FWD: 3

So here I am. Attempting to read The Elements of Style by flashlight.
In the darkness of the car, the only other light comes from street
lights on the freeway. I'd much rather be reading at home with full
lighting and more space to stretch out. But here am I in the cramped
quarters of a tightly packed car; there is much luggage and even more
loud conversation. I'm trying to ignore a progressing feeling of
annoyance and accept my fate, which I did choose, but I feel pangs of
aggitation creeping up my spine. I'm wondering why my mother asked me
to come with her on this slow trip. She is talking and seems to have
long forgotten my presence. I'm just so bored and tired and bothered.
A wierd mix; too tired to complain, but too bothered to think of
anything else. I just don't want to be here, plain and simple.
Even music and meditation aren't drowning out the noise this time..


"You shall no longer take things at second or third hand, ...You shall
not look through my eyes either, ...You shall listen to all sides and
filter them for yourself." - W.W.

Ramblings & FWD:2

It's just me again...

1. Give it Up - Amos Lee
2. Last Request - Paolo Nutini

We tell ourselfs stories. Fictional ideas completely based on--well,
ideology. I think I'm unattractive because the media tells me what to
believe as beautiful and what to see as "wrong". No grey area, either
in or out, hot or not. No one has ever come to me and teased me about
being overweight, or pointedly made a remark about my size to my
person. Hell, I've never even heard it through the back doors of
gossip. But when I watch TV or flip through a magazine, I see that the
people used for advertisements are young, thin, tall, and stylish. And
they're happy, smiling and laughing. Surrounded by other "beautiful"
people. Bathing in materialistic ecxtasy. I never see girls who look
like me with boyfriends or guys chasing them. I see tons of "normal"
people with boy/girlfriends, but the guys I'm always around seem to
only desire the media image. The plastic girl. Who maybe as real as
anything but chooses to be what others tell her she should be. Guys
don't flirt with me. I'm not a topic of disscusion. And I feel like
shit for it. These other girls, they just get it easier. Not easy,
just easier. I always feel like I'm impossing on other people. And
when I think "that guy is not looking at me, I'm not his type" it's a
story. A slip of fiction. It's not definite fact, but these stories of
insecurity hold me back from ever verifying, from trying anyway even
if I think I'm "wrong".
BOO HOO I'M THE VICTIM
But these stories have lived in me for so long
They're true.
Non-fiction.
Undebatable truths.
And I'm gunna kill the editor.

"You shall no longer take things at second or third hand, ...You shall
not look through my eyes either, ...You shall listen to all sides and
filter them for yourself." - W.W.

Lauren Goss You Need This

Okay so I looked up your love potentials. It's late, but who cares
this shit is down right interesting.
Yours>>>
VENU IN CANCER
(Your Heart Is at Home)
Your favorite place in the whole world could be your very own home,
and for many good reasons. A well-stocked kitchen and a comfortable,
inviting environment make you and the people you care about feel
welcome in your home. However, just because you like being home so
much doesn't mean you like being alone. Your family, friends, and
neighbors find that your door is always open to them. You take great
pleasure in having visitors in your home and like to fuss over them a
little...
...You may be attracted to people who remind you of your parents in
some significant way, such as a personal quality, character trait,
physical attribute or a talent. This is because the sense of
familiarity gives you an idea of what to expect, and brings a sense of
security and comfort. Often you're attracted to people who share your
strong love of family and have a background that's similar to yours.
Since you prefer to build on what makes you comfortable, you may keep
many of the same friends that you've known "forever". Forever is how
you see love relationships, too, and you are a very dedicated partner.
Once you make a commitment to someone, you keep it and value it.
Therfore, you would probably be happiest with a Taurus (April 20-May
21), Scorpio (October 23-November 22), or Pices (February 18-March 20)
partner who shares your sensitivity and devotion

Bus Conversation w/ Chelsea..

It took me so much courage to do that

Really why

I guess I like him......
:)

Yeah
I'm convienced he wouldn't mind if you did

Sincerely? Oh GOD I hope so

I think of him as Ron Weasley
I just kissed my ipod because I wanted to kiss him

That's creative.
The iPod kissing
He does remind me of a British guy.
His style is so gay but he's not and it's British in that way because
the Brits aren't afraid to wear feminine clothing...
I wish he had a British accent.
Why didyou think he didn't like you( As in he didn't like you as a
person)??

He just turned his head around really slowly & when he saw me looking
at him he whipped his head back

Right now? No, then
Answer my question

Becauses

"You shall no longer take things at second or third hand, ...You shall
not look through my eyes either, ...You shall listen to all sides and
filter them for yourself." - W.W.

Ramblings & FWD:1

It's starting to feel like I'm forgetting how to communicate with the
human world. Mouth work! Eyes see! Ears hear true and only true! I was
born yesturday and the world is new and my mind is in a struggle to
keep up. Let me in life! Let me in! I'll kick down your walls! Let me
in! Oh paralous fate. . .
You have me now, but I can still fight against the brunt force of
theives.

It's a very very mad world.


"You shall no longer take things at second or third hand, ...You shall
not look through my eyes either, ...You shall listen to all sides and
filter them for yourself." - W.W.

Fwd: Dad's Salsa Recipe

2 Red Tomatoes (1 1/4 lbs.)
7 Jalapeño peppers (1/2lbs.)
7 Green Tomatoes (1 lbs.)
1 Red Onion (10 oz.)
1 Garlic Bunch (2 oz.) use only HALF
12 Serrano Peppers (look like skinny jalapenos, near lettuce)
//ADD>>>Salt...
Cajun Salt...
Garlic & Herb...
& 1 avacado to balance things, for the "spice-ly challanged".(:

The First Six Lessons - Boleslavsky

Who is. . .

-Shakespeare
-Molière
-Goethe
-Calderon

World's Great Painters
World's Great Sculptures
World's Great Musicians

& the history of these genres of art

Periods of history (you're gunna need college)
Psychology of motion
Psychanalysis
Psychology of expression of emotion
Psychology of the logic of feeling

Do you know the anatomy of the human body?

Educating the soul. . .
-complete possession of all the five senses in various imaginable situations
-development of a memory of feeling
-memory of inspiration or penetration
-memory of imaginaton
-visual memory

You must have faith in imagination, you must develop the imagination itself.

Develop. . .
-observation
-will power
-capacity to give variety in the expression of emotion
-sense of humor
-tragic sense
-everything else you can think

Blogger wtf?!?!!

WHY ARE YOU SCREWING WITH ME. I JUST POSTED AT LEAST 10 NEW POSTS.
THEY'RE NOT SHOWING UP WITH EXPLORER.

Aha!

"And I am just gunna do whatever cause I can; you can't stop me, because I am the stop sign and you are the car, bit."


-ESPINOZA

Sentence Structure: decalrative

Rhetorical Devices:apostrophe, metaphor

Organizational Structure: in medias res

My life is interesting these days. So I've decided to pick up this stuff again. Yeah, man. Uh huh. uhhhhhhhh. yeah. Okay that's over. .well. Today was our school's black history month program and. It was cool. Chelsea was sitting next to me and we both annoted the whole scenerio. It was entertaining; this kid called Aaron (no last name provided) got up there and turned some heads. No comment. But tum, yeah. It was gravy. It's times like these when I imagen what my life would be if I were skiiny. I wonder how many guys I'd get. (STFU, you know it's true, superficial-duh.) I wish upon a star that I don't have homework tonight. GAGNIERRRRRRRRR. I loath history at times. It's my anti-christ. I missed a physics lab...shimmmt. That blows fish. I'm gunna go. This isn't interesting.

Story Story

When I was in highschool, my bus stop was a Citgo gas station.
Somedays after school, well most days after school, my mom would be
late to pick me up from the bus stop, which coincidentially was a 35
minute walk from my house. So if I didn't feel like walking or the
weather wasn't right, I'd have to wait in that Citgo foodmart. And
back then, there was nothing more I loathed to do than sit in that
Citgo foodmart. They had slots in the back of the store that drew some
odd characters to the Citgo. Notice that I said slots, as in slot
machines. In a gas station. In a small town; Kennesaw, GA pop. 0,002.
Why is irrelevant in this case, and plus I can't fathom a good enough
guesstamation at the moment. But the slot machines attracked some of
the strangest people: gamblers. Gambling addicts. And. They. Creeped.
Me. The. Fxck. Out. Anyway, there was also this shelf against the
wall, about 15 feet long, stocked with nothing. But. Porn. And it just
always made me feel sooo scared to look over and. . .oops I WAS
LOOKING AT THE WINDOW AND THE WALLS. That porn was just right in the
line of vision unfortunately. So I'd always look in the opposite
direction.
And Erin Farmer knew it too. She was in the same situation as me
somedays, waiting in that Citgo foodmart.
On one particular day when the ubiquity of the porn wall (as
it shall be addressed) become unbearably annoying I decided to focus
all of my concious attention on one object so that my periphial vision
would not notice the porn arena. That object at first was my parallel
reading for AP language. And it worked effectively, it was a damn good
book. But then I got tired of looking at the words and moved on to a
gambler who walked into the foodmart. She was no taller than 5 foot
and carried a cardboard box about a foot tall & wide. Seeing as she
didn't appear to be struggling under the gearth of it's contents, I
assumed it was empty. But then I began to wonder what the purpose of
the box would be if it were empty. I decided to intently stare at my
book to give the impression that I was reading and didn't notice her.
My periphial senses focused on her as if she were the porn wall. The
box wasn't empty. As the tiny woman in hair rolers and house slippers
slid her feet half heartedly toward the table I was sitting at, the
"gamblers' table", I noticed her face, and how it was dis-
proportionate to her physical actions. There was the look on her face
of someone wired on coffee, and a monster power drink, and maybe even
crack-cocaine: she was excited about something. Once she sat down and
began to shuffle through the contents of the box, I realized her
purpose. The box was filled with nothing but scratch offs. Scratch
offs of every kind. (Insert names of scratch-offs here.) There had to
be at least a couple hundred tickets in that box. And as she settled
into her chair while she sifted through the scratch-off maze for her
winnings, I was secretly glad to be distracted by her. The woman began
organizing the tickets, winning tickets on the table and duds in the
trash can. It was exciting to her, therefore it become interesting to
me. I stared at letters in the book and waited to see the out come. It
was like a reality tv show. No it wasn't. But it was better than the
book. And the porn wall.

"You shall no longer take things at second or third hand, ...You shall
not look through my eyes either, ...You shall listen to all sides and
filter them for yourself." - W.W.

Random Lines (T-Shirts?)

You don't have to hold your farts in around me.

Make me a mixtape.

Got GHP?

SAT. urday. SAT. urday. SAT. urday. SAT. urday. Sun-DAY. Sun-DAY. Sun-
DAY. Sun-DAY. (All-State Senior Mixed 2010)

What the cuss?

She's an Approved Wanton.

I totally just realized how much of a bxtch-move that was.

DUKE (when dxck meets douche)

Broseph (it's a kick ass version of Joseph, with a bro)

Passive-aggressive is just a fancy term for being an ass wipe.

Your mom is efficient.

I'm going inside. (that's what he said)

I never know the difference bewteen rap r&b and hip hop so I just call
it all black people music. - CWLW

Send it to me when you come out (that's what she said)


"You shall no longer take things at second or third hand, ...You shall
not look through my eyes either, ...You shall listen to all sides and
filter them for yourself." - W.W.

Edisto Checklist

-Gum (two packs, one open & one not)

Chelsea??
Mom:)
-SHAVE!! & Shower
7:35...be half-way ready
-Band-aids
-Thermus & Chocolate in the fridge
-Camera & it's charger
-toiletries in velvet bag (don't forget scrubber!)
-Sandals
-Belt?
-Fix //Did You Get My Message//Clocks//Forward Motion Ringtones that
Skip


"You shall no longer take things at second or third hand, ...You shall
not look through my eyes either, ...You shall listen to all sides and
filter them for yourself." - W.W.

Movies..

The Aristocrats
Be Kind Rewind
Six Degrees of Bacon
District 9
Law Abiding Citizens
The Girl Next Door
Precious
Nine
Julie & Julia
Pirate Radio
9
Ponyo
Away We Go
Big Fish


"You shall no longer take things at second or third hand, ...You shall
not look through my eyes either, ...You shall listen to all sides and
filter them for yourself." - W.W.

Mix Tape

1. Is There Anyone Here? - Eulogies
2. Rejazz - Regina Spector
3. Come Around - M.I.A.
4. Leader of the Pack - Mapei
5. Bonita Applebum - Tribe Called Quest
6. Electric Twist - A Fine Frenzy
7. Drama - Erykah Badu
8. Re: Stacks - Bon Iver
9. Give It Up - Amos Lee
10. I Wanna Be Your Lover - Prince
11. True - Spandau Ballet
12. Thank You - Dido
BONUS: One More Time - Daft Punk

"You shall no longer take things at second or third hand, ...You shall
not look through my eyes either, ...You shall listen to all sides and
filter them for yourself." - W.W.

-I hate juice.

-I hate juice.
*Okay Hitler, please. Drink your juice; I'm tired, I wanna go to bed.
-Just--you know what? Get the juice out of here; out of this house,
out of this country. Now.
*Hitler, get the jui--whadduh you want me to do...
-Put the juice in camps and seperate them.
*Put the juice in camps. Hitler, whadduh you want me to do seperate
them by like flavor, by like, concentration...
-Concentration...huh.
"You shall no longer take things at second or third hand, ...You shall
not look through my eyes either, ...You shall listen to all sides and
filter them for yourself." - W.W.

Revolutionary Road

Because, you see, life is like a skating rink, an iced out path, a
river frozen over in an eternal winter. And as children we skate upon
it, taking the risk, living uninhibited by the rules. What ARE the
rules? But the ice is thin in places unknown. Every now and again one
child falls through. The ice is broken by the weight of their
courageous soul and. They fall. Deeper. And deeper into the chilling
water, drowning, losing touch with reality, asking for air, for the
chance to see the light again but. Then they float. Up, up, emerging.
The lucky once open their eyes to see a lone crow sailing ahead,
seeing the trees shiver and moan, feeling the bitter, sharp wind on
their face. But they are just that, the lucky. All others find
themselves colliding with a hard, dense matter which cannot be
penetrated easily, or for the matter, with even much difficulty. The
ice has blocked them in, and of God they may see the lone crow above,
and barely make out the sillohette of the trees, but they are beneath
the surface and without the air, that harsh wind, beautiful because
feeling it means your alive. Yes, they have emerged, but into what? A
perminant state of drowning? A mock reality, where you can see but
cannot feel? What is it worth? It is as if the masquerade has become
life and the showing of the natural born face an unorthodox practice.
But not all forget that breaking throught the ice is impossible. No,
because the sun has shown on those who break through with a massive
force only capable by a fierce determination to live. Fists emerging,
elbows, head ragging passionate for life. They cause the sun to shine
and melt away the ice. And don't you realize that if more would do the
same that the ice might melt completely and never return? That there
may be a day when none shall even know that it was possible to be
trapped under the ice, for it is nonexistent? And roam free without
care. As those children on the ice rink once did.


"You shall no longer take things at second or third hand, ...You shall
not look through my eyes either, ...You shall listen to all sides and
filter them for yourself." - W.W.

Wednesday, June 9, 2010

Why Are Women Such A**holes?


Seriously. My friend Chelsea and I where watching TV* and she asked the question. I can't seem to find a reason. Is it merely because we're women? But then heading over to the guys...why do you guys put up with the jerky assholettes? Do you think it's cute? Does it turn you on in some twisted way? I mean, it's just disfunctional. And I'm not a fan of disfunctional.

*The TV show was Reasons To Be Pretty, which, as it turns out, wasn't a television show at all, yet instead a play. Thanks Chels.

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

Bells and Whistles: The Extras Come Included


So I've been using my summer vacation '010 (WOOT!) to re-think my life. My life, as in, what colleges I want to pursue, what books I wanna read, and what activities I want to be apart of before I'm officially a SENIOR:) in the fall.
I've decided that I'll stay in-state for my undergrad degree...
Which hurts my soul dearly, believe me. I want nothing more. Than to Leave. Georgia!
But it looks like that dream won't be realized for another FOUR years. O well. I'm thinking about seriously double-majoring, which apparently is a harrowing feet of unspeakable dimensions (people say it's impossible, whatever). Or else I'll major in Psychology or something, and minor in theatre. But. I refuse to give up the arts. I will major or minor in an art. Preferably theatre.
I am wondering what will happen to my vocal endeavours...
I have books!! Can I just list them first?

*Life of Pi by Yann Martel (Required Summer Reading)

*An Acrobat of the Heart by Stephen Wangh

*Being and Nothingness be Jean-Paul Sartre

*How to Be an Adult by David Richo

*Audition by Michael Shurtleff

*The Richest Man in Babylon by George S. Clason

*Going After Cacciato by Tim O'Brien

...& more!

Ha, that looks like and advertisement. These are all books I haven't read or haven't finished and I am going to finish them this summer. What a challenge...yum.

OMG.
So I auditioned for this summer program and made it--so exciting. It's the first summer program I've ever done and it's acting! Doesn't get better, I swear. Because it's also FREE. It's called the Collision Project and it's being hosted at the Alliance Theatre in Atlanta. I don't know much about the details of the program, except that they invite 17-27 teenagers from around the area to write and direct a play structured around the them of a classic text. It's all about "colliding" ideas and movements to make a show, and at the end, we tour a few high schools with our show. I'm so glad that I'm gunna stay active in acting this summer, since I love it, and it's what I wanna do. And YAY YAY YAY, I get to act with an all new crowd. This is gunna be awesome...
Enneagrams. I'm starting to believe I'm a 5/4...
As in, my ennneagram personality type is a core 5 with a 4 wing of influence. I used to thing I was a core 4 with a 5 wing of influence. But I want to read up on all of the personality typings now. This thing is like the Myers-Briggs personality typing--in fact, they are directly related. Where Myers-Briggs tells you what the dominant characteristics of your personality are, the enneagram system explains why you poses such traits, your recessive characteristics (wing of influence), and the level at which you function (healthy, average, unhealthy). So, it's a fantastically more in-depth look at personality typing, involving steps to integration to achieve a balance of all types. It's fun! I love it and it is very insightful...I'll probably end up talking about this every time I post...
Well, I am working on working more efficiently so I should go. And do some other things I'd like to do. Like live. :)

Tuesday, April 6, 2010

Multiracial Hair


So I decided to get a book about mixed people and see what other people feel like. And now I feel like I'm melo-dramatic//


Melodrama: 1. a drama, such as a play, film, or television program, characterized by exaggerated emotions, stereotypical characters, and interpersonal conflicts.

2. behavior or occurences having melodramatic characteristics.


The book turned out to be a whine fest; so far, it's only multiracial kids complaining about not fitting in. And being descriminated against. And it's not what I wanted at all. I mean, I've only read about 30 pages in...maybe it changes. But what I was hoping for was. Deeper analysis of the multiracial. Critical essays from young multiracial people. How they feel about being mixed. What their life is like, in detail, not just surface level. Not "Everybody envies me because I'm mixed" or "I hate when people ask me what race I am (but secretly I like it)". That's baby stuff. That's middle school. What I want is an intellectual analysis. I want it to be beyond.. Stereotypical. I want it to be. Not racial. Which doesn't make proper sense. But I want it to be better. When I read these stories about sensitive mixed people, I hate it. Because I feel as if it were a reflection of me. I'm not weak. And I don't pitty myself because of my race. Which would be an elementary school of thought. "BOO HOO, I'M THE VICTIM". It's so stupid and un-true. Maybe that's why I hate it, because it isn't the truth. Not for me. I don't even think about my racial identity. Maybe I should write something.


P.S. I don't know why I felt melodramatic. I think I was talking about the last post I made?

I do tend to over-exaggerate. Like this post.

Saturday, March 27, 2010

Incorrect Association Methods


So I was depressed about not making GHP. It's this summer camp for students in Valdasta, Georgia, at Valdasta State University, six full weeks, and free. It's said to be awesome. It's said to be life changing. It's effing free. And I didn't make it. I got through the first audition but the second one was not for me. I guess. I wanted to go. I was pissed when only one person made it. and it wasn't me. Because I think I'm unique and different and deserved to go more than anybody. And I think it's a good thing that I didn't go. Because I'm a mild racist and on the Valdasta GHP website there was nothing but pictures of skinny white people. And I feel left out around large hoards of white people. And black people. And asian people. I wish there were large hoards of multiracial people, like obviously multiracial, not "I'm Swedish-Irish with a German grandma"; that's still white. Or "I'm 1/16 Semoian, my mamma thinks she's dominican, and my daddy's grandpa was Nigerian", that's still black. I mean "I'm Mexican-African-American" or "I'm Korean-French-Native American" or mulotto, or black&somethingelseobviously. I want multiracial friends. I don't have any. And I feel isolated everyknow and then.

Nobody to relate to.


But it's not dramatic or dire or serious it's just me.


No, it's not important.


I just want it.


not being sarcastic.


It's so dark now I can't see my keyboard.


I don't need to see it, but you know.


Where is everyone?


I'm in a dark house alone.


Oooooooooo. The sun is setting...


I went to go watch it.


I was wondering what it would be like to do gruetosky out there.


Peanut, Peanute Butter...


AND JELLY !


yumm. I just ate a sandwhich and it was delicious.


I'm gunna right a few more posts so this one doesn't get outrageously long.