Listening to: Copeland - Hold Nothing Back
Mood: ...they don’t make words for this.

This has been one of the most vulnerable days of my life.

I am physically ill.

I have inhabited someone else’s body and my sense of balance has dissolved.

My eyebrows go up in the middle when I cry; my chin has a thousand dimples.

I can break into a million pieces.

Listening to: Joss Stone - Torn and Tattered
Mood: Slightly fractious, but mostly satisfied.

I was thinking of all the times I've heard someone say "we're just two different people," and I've decided it's a redundant statement.

Who else can be you? Not really anyone. Not exactly.

So come up with something better than that if you ever disagree with me on something, because I think that's one of many cheap ways out. It doesn't support any argument because it isn't directly related to any conflict: it's just presupposed that in a conflict there are two opposing sides which are not the same, right? It doesn't validate any emotion because there are no emotions contingent solely on the fact that X is not equal to Y.

And it's utterly trite, and the worst kind of trite: it's extremely commonly used and it really doesn't have any substantial, core fact.

It just makes you sound dumb.

I'm playing the part of Murray in the Odd Couple production. It's different though because all of the actors on stage are deaf - and the voice actors are off stage interpretting. Funny, I have a large part, and I don't even know sign language.

This should be very interesting... But I do have a script finally, and I'm going to meet with the deaf guy playing Murray some to match up inflection and stuff. In a way, it's not really easier than being up on stage, because I almost have to pretend that it is me, and more of what I'll be "interpretting" is his attitude anyway.

The other voice actors weren't there last night, so it was just me and all the stage actors... That was a little uncomfortable - being around a group of people with no ability to communicate - but finally one of the guys told me he was just hard of hearing (probably like 80% or so because he still has a speech impediment), so that was a relief... We chatted a bit about school here and all. Told him I was writing a screenplay, and he seemed to really dig that. Good times, for real.

We went through about half the play last night. (it's 2 and a half hours.)

Oh, and in other news - I might be moving to NJ in September. Dave Jensen had the idea because one of his roomies is leaving then to go to Bible college. I dunno - it's still a stretch, but I already got the OK from mom. We'll see...

Sitting here. I guess sometimes cool pictures don't have to be hard to take.

Sweetly parading you go my soul of soul, go not without me;
life of your friends, enter not the garden without me.
Sky, revolve not without me; moon, shine not without me;
earth travel not without me, and time, go not without me.
With you this world is joyous, and with you that world is joyous;
in this world dwell not without me, and to that world depart not without me.
Vision, know not without me, and tongue, recite not without
me; glance behold not without me, and soul, go not without me.
The night through the moon's light sees its face white; I am
light, you are my moon, go not to heaven without me.
The thorn is secure from the fire in the shelter of the roses
face: you are the rose, I your thorn; go not into the rose garden without me.
I run in the curve of your mallet when your eye is with me;
even so gaze upon me, drive not without me, go not without me.
When, joy, you are companion of the king, drink not without
me; when, watchman, you go to the kings roof, go not without me.
Alas for him who goes on this road without your sign; since
you, O signless one, are my sign, go not without me.
Alas for him who goes on the road without my knowledge;
you are the knowledge of the road for me; O road-knower, go not without me.
Others call you love, I call you the king of love; O you who are
higher than the imagination of this and that, go not without me.

-Rumi

listening to: Foo Fighters - Everlong
mood: Super, but POed

My disdain for Ben Affleck is growing daily. Not only has this idiot been the sexiest man alive (according to People® magazine), but he's an Academy Award winner, runner of Project Greenlight, and now becoming a director.

How?

Sigh... And when I win my Oscar - I'll be sure to mention him.

I miss my daddy.

3 years now.

I'm calling a timeout so that I can stop everything.

I am so sad right now: somehow that feeling in your head right before you cry feels like a sneeze.

Just stop stop stop stop stop.

Breathe.

and an excerpt from what I wrote for Elliott's back-story:

"..despite his keen sense of diction and communication, he could not find the right words to circumvent her depression. It’s as if he had misplaced the one idea that could have saved her – an idea that he has a hard time defining even now. He seems to be searching for it still, but knows now that his words are not what saves a person – the salvation, so to speak, is not from the speaker, but in the hearer’s realization that the words are true – that potential is a myth – that a person’s life is exactly what it should be – that death should be an honorable end to a life that was actually lived and not faked – a selfless existence based on service and not flattery."

Josh, we're on our way buddy.

"Brand New Colony"

I'll be the grapes fermented,
Bottled and served with the table set in my finest suit
Like a perfect gentlemen
I'll be the fire escape that's bolted to the ancient brick
Where you will sit and contemplate your day

I'll be the waterwings that save you if you start drowning
In an open tab when your judgement's on the brink
I'll be the phonograph that plays your favorite
Albums back as your lying there drifting off to sleep...
I'll be the platform shoes and undo what heredity's done to you...
You won't have to strain to look into my eyes
I'll be your winter coat buttoned and zippedstraight to the throat
With the collar up so you won't catch a cold

I want to take you far from the cynics in this town
And kiss you on the mouth
We'll cut out bodies free from the tethers of this scene,
Start a brand new colony
Where everything will change,
We'll give ourselves new names (identities erased)
The sun will heat the grounds
Under our bare feet in this brand new colony
Everything will change.

I'm not near done drawing this. This is a small part of a much larger picture... It's Scarlett Johansson believe it or not. The photo doesn't looke much like her, but it's a good photo. Can't wait to finish this one.

Story time with Audrey Meyer.

Duckling415 [8:04 PM]: there was this third grade class and the teaacher was having the students color a picture of a squirrell
Duckling415 [8:04 PM]: so this one boy was coloring his squirrel pink
Duckling415 [8:04 PM]: and the teacher was going around the room and she stopped at the boy drawing a pink squirrel and asked him what color are squirrels
Duckling415 [8:04 PM]: and the boy answered "brown adn black"
Duckling415 [8:05 PM]: and so the teacher said good, and kept walking around the room hoping the child would get the hint and start to color the squirrell brown and blac
Duckling415 [8:05 PM]: black
Duckling415 [8:05 PM]: so the teacher came back to the boy and asked again,
Duckling415 [8:05 PM]: what color are squrrels adn the boys said
Duckling415 [8:06 PM]: "I know squirrels are brown and black, but this son of a bitch is gonna be pink"
Junglebuttons2 [8:06 PM]: HAHAHAHA
Junglebuttons2 [8:06 PM]: wait, did that really happen?!
Duckling415 [8:06 PM]: lol
Duckling415 [8:06 PM]: yeah
Junglebuttons2 [8:06 PM]: hahahahahaha
Duckling415 [8:06 PM]: lol
Duckling415 [8:07 PM]: my teacher told our class that on wednesday
Duckling415 [8:07 PM]: it happened a long time ago in one of the teacher's she knows class
Duckling415 [8:07 PM]: she said the teacher had to walk out of the class to laugh and then walk back in

Sometimes when I have really long, drawn-out conversations with someone in person, there's a certain point where I become extremely aware that I'm staring at his or her face and that he or she is staring at mine and blabbering. Not that I'm uninterested in what the person is saying, it's just... hysterical how humans... are... or something.

I don't know exactly what it is that's so weird. One time a long time ago, I just started laughing at this guy's eyes after we had been talking about something serious for about four hours. It's so random of me, but I can't help it.

And it just makes me laugh.

Watch this. I don't have any more words.

Another airport. I feel like my handwriting changes a little every time I come to one of these, but there's always more to say. I participated in a life-saving game of "telephone" on the flight here to Denver. I highly recommend telling a complete stranger to pass along information to another complete stranger.

That's actually the second time I've played anonymous "telephone" in my life.

(Liberating.)

I'm roughly 6'6" in these shoes. I know, a tad unnecessary, but I didn't feel apologetic, today, about being so tall. I'm not sorry that I take up a lot of space right now.

(Also liberating: making a giant taller with big shoes.)

I'm so lucky to have this seat. I'm facing away from the foodcourt behind a bar of sorts. It feels like the front row of something important. The view is a crossing of four paths, flooded with heavily baggaged travelers, all with what seems to be the same, black, tiny-wheeled suitcase. (Even I have one.)

And everyone seems so happy: It's always nice to have a smile reciprocated. But when I'm in a bad mood, the airport seems glum. I project a bit, yeah? Regardless, Denver is bright today.

(Third liberation: smiling at strangers.)

How about the kid with the drab flannel shirt with the single scoop vanilla ice cream? He put his bag up on the bar here to put some small thing in it. Then he picked the bag up and kept walking, removing the spoon in his mouth with his newly freed hand.

I wonder if the girl in the frumpy track suit knows how beautiful she is. (Part of me hopes she doesn't.)

The redhead with the green plastic glasses, the tiny diamond nosering, and the green floral shirt and raspberry shoes (her favorite color is green, I'm sure), she smelled like expensive perfume as she walked by.

Suddenly, I feel like I've misunderstood it, having been shortsighted. They're all thinking right now and have someone to hug soon. (I hope.) And I swear the voice overhead (strangely muffled by it's own, layered echo) just said "mo cusha," my blood...

(4th liberation: sitting without food in the middle of a crowded foodcourt, writing about people sitting right next to you):

I like the redhead. (That voice overhead said it again. Mo cusha...)