harry potter and the sorceror’s fucking lies harry potter and the chamber of no clues harry potter and the prisoner is a clue and it’s in azkaban so that’s why it’s not here harry potter and the goblet full of bull shit. harry potter and the order- there is no order because she lied harry potter and the half-assed clue that never showed up harry potter and the deathly excitement for a clue that NEVER CAME
I do theatre because i love it. Its the place where i can be someone totally different while still being me. I develop myself into the characters that i play. The theatre gives a better feeling than the screen. Its a place where for 2 hours you are not yourself. worrying about lifes problems that happen right before your eyes and in your head. when filming something you do maybe 30 seconds of not being yourself and 2 minutes of reality for about 15 minutes at least 9 times a day. In theatre you’re always the character.
You dont have to worry about, the depression you cant control, the repremanding parents, the misunderstood moments in life, the thoughts of being a horrible person to people, the sadness others put upon you, the pain others put upon you, the fact that someday you might lose everything you ever cared about, realizing you cared about more stuff than what/who actually cared for you, the fact that people you dont even know automatically assume what’s best for you, and finally the fact that the people who are fake are the people that you used to look up to.
And then you realize, life’s better when you’re not yourself. Then you think well then what’s the point of even being here. Then you remember you have another weekend of performances and an audition coming up. And having the chance to be someone else trumps suicide everytime.
Why I do what I do. Why we do what we do. And why we can’t understand people that don’t do it. Or don’t understand us for doing it. Nobody seems to get that rehearsing every night a block away or a whole city away for nights upon end, being your ass to get the song/character/words exactly right for a one weekend show or even a three day show, and being apart of something so strange to them can be so riveting for us. Some don’t understand that we thrive from it. Some don’t understand that yes, we miss out on a lot and we miss our out-of-theatre friends like crazy, but that all seems to fade away the second we step on the stage. Some don’t understand that stepping into someone else’s shoes for thirty minutes to two hours can be as serious and fun as it is. Some don’t understand how we mock the director and freak over “PLACES” and love tech week even though we call it hell-week. Sometimes they don’t understand how we can be totally different and yet totally ourselves. Sometimes we don’t even understand it. How can one remember the choreography to that one number you did two years ago? You don’t really ever understand until you do it. You don’t understand until you experience the inside jokes, the crazy harmonies, the obnoxious behavior as you try to stay quiet backstage, the drama on and off the stage, the quick changes, the smiles and tears, the horror inside your head as you forget a line and the relief you feel when you remember it, the constructive criticism, the last note, the costumes, the expression, the feeling, the nerves you get opening night, the butterflies before your solo, the chance you get when you stand in the spotlight, the feeling of everything and anything rushing away once your foot hits the stage, the good and bad times, and the tears that follow the last bow. Honestly, there are no words. It’s almost like feeling infinite. Whether you’re a lead or an extra or an ensemble or that one in the back that says one line, you’re a part of it. And you feel that. We all feel it. And we crave it. We thrive on it. It’s how we live. It’s why we do what we do.
I think I’m meant to be alone. I think I’m better off that way. I can’t hold an interesting conversation for the life of me and I constantly ramble and worry I’m annoying the other person. I never know if they want space, or if they want someone there for them. I feel like if I don’t talk to them they’ll think I don’t care, and if I do I feel like I’m bothering them. I don’t know if this is lack of communication skills, anti-social problems, or what, but trying to make new friends or fall in love is just more of a burden to me than a pleasure. I want it so bad but I wind up trying too hard and I get my hopes up only to be disappointed.