under a killing moon
well, i was gonna make up this huge, elaborate intro to my mindless babble-fuck, but i'll hold myself. i'm going to regulate myself to one word, and that word is "fuck". not of confusion, or wonderment. of anger, and fuckin' pissed off-ed ness at a lot of things, and in some case people. because some people think while they're frustrated and because they can;t handle it, they can be bitches to other people. this isn't really directed towards anyone, just the way people can be in general. and i'd also like to say no all actors are fucking stupid as one might think, i don't see how people think that because they work backstage its some rite of passage. i'm not andrew lawrence, and you know who this is addressed to if its you. you'll prolly pitch a fit. i'll prolly not give a fuck. if you think that being a bitch to everyone and calling people around you "stupid actors" have fun with that. i can kinda see why people might not appreciate stage crewers, because some of them can't do a good job of staying cool under pressure.
you know i'm not saying this because i hate crew. i appreciate crew a lot. i'm not Stupid. i'm aware there ain;'t a damned show without crewers. but if you think all actors are pissed off and say mean things about crew, its probably some member of the crew got on their case first. its hard to appreciate someone who really ripped your ass, because you take too long to get offstage, no? its hard to like someone who was a -an awful person, i'll say, to you, and whats the only part of crew you remember, am i wrong?
i'm not calling anyone a bitch, i'm not calling anyone mean. but i don't see carson or anyone else getting a stick shoved up their ass. maybe its because they're not a manager, i can understand the burden the job you are bearing. I know its not easy, and its not easy being nice to everyone when they're being a bit slow or maybe dumb at times. but don;t slip into becoming a monster, us stupid actors remember that.
since i'm assuming its still lent, you said you wanted us to be upfront with you. here i am. you're probably pissed, and you might hate me. I'm not completely sorry for what i'm saying, i just want you to understand that people are not oblivious to how you might treat them. i know i'm as guilty as anyone else, and i should have one of these posts coming to me to.
if you hate me, thats fine. we can part ways if you'd like. i won't be a par of the spring show, if thats going to affect the way you enjoy yourself in theatre. if i'm going to be hated onstage, off, and at home, i might as well stay home, right?
i hope i wasn't too terribly mean, but seeing as i could've lit up something, i understand. hit me back, whatever. i don;t care anymore.
and i guess i should say fuck to that drum wall. its not joe's fault we had problems. it was mine, and i let frustration get to me, because there's just something i fucking hate, whether its me, or the fact that joe can;t read my mind, or look at me, or listen when we play. and even though there' supposed to be some kind of fuckin' communication, i guess i'm not doing a good enough job of reaching him. so tomorrow i'll throw something at him. and if that doesnt work, he's getting a drum solo. because me and my gay-ass-fucking guitar shit can be tossed in the fucking can.
God, i'm so terribly fucked up. i don;t even know why i get myself into these damned situations. i don't even see what good it does me, at all. i look like a fuckin' fool, i sound like one, i tripped three times tonight, apparently to some fuckin senior guy, i'm not gracious and thankful for my other emcees, I apparently look and sound like a 3 year old, reading YELLOW type in a dark theatre. thanks clay. and knowing my guitar, i'll prolly break a string tomorrow, and...sigh.
and prom, yeah, i'll stay home and maybe watch a movie. alison and them will have a good time, prom's just a silly dance anyway. and alison's just a girl...no, whatever. i lied, she's not, but whatever, that's for another post, maybe. a big elaborate post where i say how stupid and sight-less i was. foolish, dumb, and full of it. and so, i'm coming back down to earth, and i wake up. and reality's different than i thought. i wake up, and there's nothing. nothing but the falling snow. i'll sing to myself, and go to sleep, and wake up, and slog it again.
i knew i had weird nightmares, but i didn't know it made me strangely delirious. and now that i wake, i understand some very little things, pinches on my arm.
you know i'm not saying this because i hate crew. i appreciate crew a lot. i'm not Stupid. i'm aware there ain;'t a damned show without crewers. but if you think all actors are pissed off and say mean things about crew, its probably some member of the crew got on their case first. its hard to appreciate someone who really ripped your ass, because you take too long to get offstage, no? its hard to like someone who was a -an awful person, i'll say, to you, and whats the only part of crew you remember, am i wrong?
i'm not calling anyone a bitch, i'm not calling anyone mean. but i don't see carson or anyone else getting a stick shoved up their ass. maybe its because they're not a manager, i can understand the burden the job you are bearing. I know its not easy, and its not easy being nice to everyone when they're being a bit slow or maybe dumb at times. but don;t slip into becoming a monster, us stupid actors remember that.
since i'm assuming its still lent, you said you wanted us to be upfront with you. here i am. you're probably pissed, and you might hate me. I'm not completely sorry for what i'm saying, i just want you to understand that people are not oblivious to how you might treat them. i know i'm as guilty as anyone else, and i should have one of these posts coming to me to.
if you hate me, thats fine. we can part ways if you'd like. i won't be a par of the spring show, if thats going to affect the way you enjoy yourself in theatre. if i'm going to be hated onstage, off, and at home, i might as well stay home, right?
i hope i wasn't too terribly mean, but seeing as i could've lit up something, i understand. hit me back, whatever. i don;t care anymore.
and i guess i should say fuck to that drum wall. its not joe's fault we had problems. it was mine, and i let frustration get to me, because there's just something i fucking hate, whether its me, or the fact that joe can;t read my mind, or look at me, or listen when we play. and even though there' supposed to be some kind of fuckin' communication, i guess i'm not doing a good enough job of reaching him. so tomorrow i'll throw something at him. and if that doesnt work, he's getting a drum solo. because me and my gay-ass-fucking guitar shit can be tossed in the fucking can.
God, i'm so terribly fucked up. i don;t even know why i get myself into these damned situations. i don't even see what good it does me, at all. i look like a fuckin' fool, i sound like one, i tripped three times tonight, apparently to some fuckin senior guy, i'm not gracious and thankful for my other emcees, I apparently look and sound like a 3 year old, reading YELLOW type in a dark theatre. thanks clay. and knowing my guitar, i'll prolly break a string tomorrow, and...sigh.
and prom, yeah, i'll stay home and maybe watch a movie. alison and them will have a good time, prom's just a silly dance anyway. and alison's just a girl...no, whatever. i lied, she's not, but whatever, that's for another post, maybe. a big elaborate post where i say how stupid and sight-less i was. foolish, dumb, and full of it. and so, i'm coming back down to earth, and i wake up. and reality's different than i thought. i wake up, and there's nothing. nothing but the falling snow. i'll sing to myself, and go to sleep, and wake up, and slog it again.
i knew i had weird nightmares, but i didn't know it made me strangely delirious. and now that i wake, i understand some very little things, pinches on my arm.