Is there anybody out there? Seriously, is there anyone?
I'm an awful person, I know, but sometimes I just want to cry out for help. I'm so attention-seeking in that way and I need to stop, no one needs to know how I'm feeling, it's just self-absorbed. So I'll keep quiet I guess.
But right now, I really need a hug.
Sunday, 24 February 2013
Saturday, 16 February 2013
Every now and again Peter would disappear through the clouds leaving them stranded.
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Today I just feel cloudy really. I came out of hospital on Tuesday having been there since Thursday night, and I don't know if it's this new medication - but I feel completely out of control of everything. It's like a cloud is just going through me and muddling up all my senses and I have no idea what is really going on and no real sense of self. I feel empty. I feel grey.
I also found out, when I came out of hospital, that my Granddad was admitted into hospital pretty much the same time that I was. They think that it's liver cancer. Dad went up to see him today. I pondered, but decided not to go. I decided not to go for purely selfish reasons. I am absolutely terrified that it might be one of the last times that I see him. And I don't want my last memory to be of him as frail and me unhappy because I would be thinking about this family fight that is going on. I'd like to look back and think fondly about when I last saw him. Not wondering why there was this fight going on. But I wrote in his card 'Always thinking of you'. It's true. I do.
That's the thing about our thoughts. I thought that we could just lock them up in a tiny little box and then throw them away but we can't. I shrug my shoulders at my Dad and say that it doesn't bother me. I call my grandmother a bitch. But it never stops hurting. It never gets any easier.
I think what I'm really feeling is weariness. I'm tired of all of this. Of everything. I just want it all to stop. I don't know if that's depressed. I think I'm just resolved to it all and wanting this thing to end. Everything to end. I can't be bothered with any of it anymore. I can't take pleasure in anything. It just all gets swallowed up.
Monday, 4 February 2013
"The reason why birds fly and we can't is because they have perfect faith and to have faith is to have wings."
'Marie, stop playing the obstacles.'
Today I had a breakthrough. A lightbulb moment if you will. In my Acting lesson we were given goals to carry out, and then we were given obstacles that would interfere. For example, mine was - you really want to talk to your crush and be cool, but you've just found that your mum has terminal cancer and has just about a month to live. So, tricky shit, right?
Anyway, until the obstacles arrived, I was doing fine. When they surfaced, I suddenly seemed to devote all my attention on them. 'You should let them push you, not let them block you.' I was told.
It was a lesson that was in Acting, but I figured that it could be used in life too. It is so easy to cower away from everything because of the obstacles in your way, but there is a way to use them to your advantage too. Let them push you forward, make you determined to prove them wrong - to achieve in spite of them. I hope that I can put that into practise in both aspects of my life.
The course is going great, I love it. It's strange though - at Central, they're so anti-character. They don't like the word or the word 'emotion'. We're given a phrase, 'invent nothing, deny nothing.' It's all about being as real as possible. As true to yourself as possible. However, my time at Mountview built up the idea of character. Where are you right now? Your bedroom? Ok, what's that like then? See it, really picture it. Ok, now that that's done - how does your bedroom reflect you as a character? About 90% of the reasons why I love acting is the idea that I get to be somebody else for a change. That I get to slip into their shoes. I spend ages before an audition making character maps. I go even more overboard if I get the part. Annotating my script, searching for hidden meanings. What makes them tick? What was their childhood like? What was their favourite memory? What's their deepest darkest secret. I look through all of it so that it feels like I've lived their lives too and we're now on the same page.
But at Central, I'm being told to disregard most of this. It's fascinating really. They want you to focus on you rather than the character. I honestly think that I want to explore it. But that terrifies me too at the same time. I have learnt (surprisingly, most people would find), to suppress most of my emotions and to put them out on display makes me wonder if I'd just keep on going and never be able to stop? I have an audition tomorrow for Fantine and Eponine. What if, during I dreamed a dream say, I poured out my heart and my soul. 'Now life has killed the dream I dreamed.' Would be completely honest. But with this truthfulness does there now come a price? Would I be able to pick myself up again? Or would I just carry on and sink down even further?
Help?
Today I had a breakthrough. A lightbulb moment if you will. In my Acting lesson we were given goals to carry out, and then we were given obstacles that would interfere. For example, mine was - you really want to talk to your crush and be cool, but you've just found that your mum has terminal cancer and has just about a month to live. So, tricky shit, right?
Anyway, until the obstacles arrived, I was doing fine. When they surfaced, I suddenly seemed to devote all my attention on them. 'You should let them push you, not let them block you.' I was told.
It was a lesson that was in Acting, but I figured that it could be used in life too. It is so easy to cower away from everything because of the obstacles in your way, but there is a way to use them to your advantage too. Let them push you forward, make you determined to prove them wrong - to achieve in spite of them. I hope that I can put that into practise in both aspects of my life.
The course is going great, I love it. It's strange though - at Central, they're so anti-character. They don't like the word or the word 'emotion'. We're given a phrase, 'invent nothing, deny nothing.' It's all about being as real as possible. As true to yourself as possible. However, my time at Mountview built up the idea of character. Where are you right now? Your bedroom? Ok, what's that like then? See it, really picture it. Ok, now that that's done - how does your bedroom reflect you as a character? About 90% of the reasons why I love acting is the idea that I get to be somebody else for a change. That I get to slip into their shoes. I spend ages before an audition making character maps. I go even more overboard if I get the part. Annotating my script, searching for hidden meanings. What makes them tick? What was their childhood like? What was their favourite memory? What's their deepest darkest secret. I look through all of it so that it feels like I've lived their lives too and we're now on the same page.
But at Central, I'm being told to disregard most of this. It's fascinating really. They want you to focus on you rather than the character. I honestly think that I want to explore it. But that terrifies me too at the same time. I have learnt (surprisingly, most people would find), to suppress most of my emotions and to put them out on display makes me wonder if I'd just keep on going and never be able to stop? I have an audition tomorrow for Fantine and Eponine. What if, during I dreamed a dream say, I poured out my heart and my soul. 'Now life has killed the dream I dreamed.' Would be completely honest. But with this truthfulness does there now come a price? Would I be able to pick myself up again? Or would I just carry on and sink down even further?
Help?
I should like to give you a thimble
Once upon a time, there was a girl. She wasn't a Princess, or an amazing warrior Queen, she was just a girl. And the girl would sometimes look in the mirror and think that maybe, just maybe, she was pretty. That little hope led to a kiss just in the corner of her mouth and a sparkle in her eye.
As she grew, a wicked queen grew jealous of the girl's kiss. She wanted there to be no doubt in anyone's mind that she was the most beautiful and that the girl was ugly. So she started to taunt the girl and say unkind things, the girl was unhappy but when she looked at herself in the mirror and began to doubt herself, she saw that kiss and smiled again.
The wicked queen didn't know what to do. She'd succeeded in making the girl quieter and more obedient, but the girl still smiled and the more she smiled the bigger the kiss grew. Finally, in a fit of jealous rage, the queen cut the girl's face and the kiss fell to the ground.
The girl was stunned. The cut was painful and as people were afraid to heal the cut and suffer the wrath of the queen, the girl had to clumsily stitch her face back together. Now people were unkind to her of their own accord rather than orders. They laughed at the cut that gaped open and soon the sparkle was gone from the girl's eyes too. She no longer looked in her mirror.
But the girl was still strong enough to run away. She ran to a neighbouring village where they fussed around her and wondered what to do about the cut. They did not know how to heal it, and so they painted over it so that it could no longer be seen. The girl was somewhat happier now that there was no grotesque cut to be made fun of. But whenever she smiled, she could feel the burn of it as it opened slightly again and again. She sought out witches to get rid of it for her. They gave her potions that made the sparkle return to her eyes and blush to her cheeks. But when she asked them to heal the cut, they simply took away her mirror. Now, the girl couldn't see the cut even if she peered hard for it because she had no reflection. But she could still feel it.
The girl went to a wizard and asked him what he could do. He told her that he would do nothing, and that it was up to the girl to heal her cut in time. Her friends did what they could to make her forget about the cut on her face, by painting over it and giving her hugs when she needed them. But the girl still felt lost.
Now, the girl wanders around the forest. Barefoot, hair loose and her dress ripped from the tangles of branches as she searches the forest floor for the kiss that she has lost.
As she grew, a wicked queen grew jealous of the girl's kiss. She wanted there to be no doubt in anyone's mind that she was the most beautiful and that the girl was ugly. So she started to taunt the girl and say unkind things, the girl was unhappy but when she looked at herself in the mirror and began to doubt herself, she saw that kiss and smiled again.
The wicked queen didn't know what to do. She'd succeeded in making the girl quieter and more obedient, but the girl still smiled and the more she smiled the bigger the kiss grew. Finally, in a fit of jealous rage, the queen cut the girl's face and the kiss fell to the ground.
The girl was stunned. The cut was painful and as people were afraid to heal the cut and suffer the wrath of the queen, the girl had to clumsily stitch her face back together. Now people were unkind to her of their own accord rather than orders. They laughed at the cut that gaped open and soon the sparkle was gone from the girl's eyes too. She no longer looked in her mirror.
But the girl was still strong enough to run away. She ran to a neighbouring village where they fussed around her and wondered what to do about the cut. They did not know how to heal it, and so they painted over it so that it could no longer be seen. The girl was somewhat happier now that there was no grotesque cut to be made fun of. But whenever she smiled, she could feel the burn of it as it opened slightly again and again. She sought out witches to get rid of it for her. They gave her potions that made the sparkle return to her eyes and blush to her cheeks. But when she asked them to heal the cut, they simply took away her mirror. Now, the girl couldn't see the cut even if she peered hard for it because she had no reflection. But she could still feel it.
The girl went to a wizard and asked him what he could do. He told her that he would do nothing, and that it was up to the girl to heal her cut in time. Her friends did what they could to make her forget about the cut on her face, by painting over it and giving her hugs when she needed them. But the girl still felt lost.
Now, the girl wanders around the forest. Barefoot, hair loose and her dress ripped from the tangles of branches as she searches the forest floor for the kiss that she has lost.
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