I was in this scene for my Acting class. We recorded it because "Barbara's" parents wanted to see it. I loved the play, and was sad that we had to cut so much (Honor Cooooooode!)
I also didn't realize until I re-watched it that I dropped a line:
"You know, if you were Daddy's favourite you must take his suicide kind of personally."
I saw this online and printed it to put on my wall. Every time I look at it, I actually get a little scared and feel the incessant need to go do something productive. It works!
The actor is Benedict Cumberbatch who (is awesome enough just with that name) is Sherlock Holmes in the BBC series Sherlock (which is sooo good).
Utah kinda sucks, but for the most part it's pretty fun. We went to the Festival of Colors this weekend--the Hindu celebration of spring. 10,000 people throwing chalk on each other, awesome!
Okay seriously, I hate Rick Santorum. Like I doubt it's even possible for him to get the nomination, but if he does I will throw my life into Obama's campaign, and if, by any freak chance, he wins, I will assassinate him myself.
However, I do love all the shit that's been flying around the Internet making fun of him, like the portrait of him composed entirely of gay porn, and of course, all the memes:
But I think my favourite, so far, is this.
Teehee. Go Democrats.
Update: My friends found these today, and they were too good not to share, especially when on my fuck-you-Santorum-rant!
Most of the stuff I post on here I find on I Waste So Much Time (because, seriously, it's true) and every once in a while, a gem will pop up. This is one of them.
I feel like this really sums up my year at BYU (at least, so far) and partially in high school. I've really put myself out there, even when the thought of doing so was terrifying. But because I did, I found USGA, I found my friends (who, probably unbeknownst to them, have carried me through much of the year). I found psychological help in the counseling center at BYU, I came out to family, classmates, people at BYU. I've accepted that I have psychological issues, how I got them, and how to cope with them in day-to-day-life. It's terrifying, being honest. Total and complete vulnerability- opening yourself to someone who may strike you down. It's a paralyzing terror, too--makes you regret your courage and the adrenaline surge howling that you crawl back to your little cave of introversion and never leave again.
But it's exhilirating, too. To finally be loved by someone else, someone whom you esteem enough to be with, not someone you're with because you feel you aren't any better, aren't worth any more, that no one else will come along. And there's a constant fear, that you aren't worth enough to be with them, that they'll realize this and leave you for someone more whole. (Or prettier, skinnier, sexier, smarter, happier...) but they're obviously with you for a reason, so maybe there's some scrap of worthiness, right? So you start thinking, searching, realizing, accepting yourself.
Today, March 14th, 2012, at 1:24am, I buried my last dream and withdrew from my Acting class, switching my major to just Psychology. It was the right decision and a long time in coming, but I still shed a few (okay, a lot) of tears. I feel, recurringly, like I've betrayed myself, and this is literally the nail in the coffin.
What happens to a dream deferred?
Does it dry up like a raisin in the sun? Or fester like a sore-- And then run? Does it stink like rotten meat? Or crust and sugar over-- like a syrupy sweet?
Maybe it just sags like a heavy load.
Or does it explode?
I know it's the right decision, and I tried to comfort myself with this quote:
"'Dagny, we can never lose the things we live for. We may have to change their form at times, if we've made an error, but the purpose remains the same and the forms are ours to make.'"-Atlas Shrugged, 615
But then I see this one:
There is no more despicable coward than the man who deserted the battle for his joy, fearing to assert his right to existence, lacking the courage and the loyalty to life of a bird or a flower reaching for the sun. Discard the protective rags of that vice which you call a virtue: humility—learn to value yourself, which means: to fight for your happiness—and when you learn that pride is the sum of all virtues, you will learn to live like a man.
And I'm miserable again. What's worse, is I fear that a major part in my motivation for doing this is because it'll make my parents happy. At any rate, it'll probably get them off my back a little.
And hey, I became Peter Keating a long time ago. May as well keep it that way.
“Oh, Jake,” Brett said, “We could have had such a damned good time together.”
