[This post has nothing to do with Odin, other than the fact that the English name of this day, a Wednesday, was derived from his name. That's what I've been learning, anyway.]
I could be a very nervous sort of person. Put a person like me in the middle of a stage with a monologue and two poems to present, and I will evaporate under the stage lights and leave behind a mist of chagrin.
Talking too much was never my forte. If that hadn't been the case, I wouldn't have a two-digit post quota here on my quasi-public blog. But today, on the eleventh day of a fifteen-day summer course, I was doomed to take things up a lot of notches and present to a public of God-knows-how-many a monologue in the perspective of a government official and two poems about animal extinction, which I didn't even write, for Monday's session.
Theater shouldn't even be part of the agenda. Or if it had been, I should have been told. I'm a coward in that field and I just don't do those things. I'm no good when lighted up and criticized, like a witch in the Middle Ages. The ship is out of the docks, though, and I'm on board. That's just a bad metaphor to this situation I've gotten myself into and couldn't get myself out of. But I figured, this is an already-paid-for misery. Whether we like it or not, as Simone said, we have to do it.
On a slightly brighter note, I've found alot plethora of reasons to change the view of my window (i.e. acknowledge the existence of less perverse topics). I don't want to enumerate. That would spoil everything. But I'm :) these days, despite the upcoming three-part drama on Moon's Day and all sorts of miscommunication with all sorts of people for the next two months.
This is the summer and I'm not going to waste the summer wishing I was possessed by somebody else's soul. I know my haphazard phrases contradict each other but whatever. I learned not to look back at what you're afraid to see. In the same way, I'm not going to edit or reread what I just typed. I'm losing sense again. I'll stop now. Good night.
And by the way, I haven't forgotten... Tomorrow is the epic day of the Purple Devil. I'll ostentatiously wear purple tomorrow, just to commemorate this. Micah, wherever you are... I remembered the >:) thing.
I could be a very nervous sort of person. Put a person like me in the middle of a stage with a monologue and two poems to present, and I will evaporate under the stage lights and leave behind a mist of chagrin.
Talking too much was never my forte. If that hadn't been the case, I wouldn't have a two-digit post quota here on my quasi-public blog. But today, on the eleventh day of a fifteen-day summer course, I was doomed to take things up a lot of notches and present to a public of God-knows-how-many a monologue in the perspective of a government official and two poems about animal extinction, which I didn't even write, for Monday's session.
Theater shouldn't even be part of the agenda. Or if it had been, I should have been told. I'm a coward in that field and I just don't do those things. I'm no good when lighted up and criticized, like a witch in the Middle Ages. The ship is out of the docks, though, and I'm on board. That's just a bad metaphor to this situation I've gotten myself into and couldn't get myself out of. But I figured, this is an already-paid-for misery. Whether we like it or not, as Simone said, we have to do it.
On a slightly brighter note, I've found a
This is the summer and I'm not going to waste the summer wishing I was possessed by somebody else's soul. I know my haphazard phrases contradict each other but whatever. I learned not to look back at what you're afraid to see. In the same way, I'm not going to edit or reread what I just typed. I'm losing sense again. I'll stop now. Good night.
And by the way, I haven't forgotten... Tomorrow is the epic day of the Purple Devil. I'll ostentatiously wear purple tomorrow, just to commemorate this. Micah, wherever you are... I remembered the >:) thing.
