bittersweet week

sweet: the last week of the play
bitter: the last week of the play....ever.... + oh, and the fact that i have to go to school during the day


haiku for you II

calm your tits, woman
you are worse than a mood ring
good bye in four months


life story I

Some women choose to follow men, and some women choose to follow their dreams. If you’re wondering which way to go, remember that your career will never wake up and tell you that it doesn’t love you anymore.

Lady Gaga


modern age love

I was shooting a scene in my new film, No Strings Attached, in which I say to Natalie Portman,

“If you miss me. You can’t text, you can’t email, you can’t post it on my Facebook wall. If you really miss me, you come and see me.”

I began to think of all of the billions of intimate exchanges sent daily via fingers and screens, bouncing between satellites and servers. With all this texting, emailing, and social networking, I started wondering, are we all becoming so in touch with one another that we are in danger of losing touch?

It used to be that boy met girl and they exchanged phone numbers. Anticipation built. They imagined the entire relationship before a call ever happened. The phone rang. Hearts pounded. “Hello?” Followed by a conversation that lasted two hours but felt like two minutes and would be examined with friends for two weeks. If all went well, a date was arranged. That was then.

Now we exchange numbers but text instead of calling because it mitigates the risks of early failure and eliminates those deafening moments of silence. Now anticipation builds. Bdoop. “It was NICE meeting u” Both sides overanalyze every word. We talk to a friend, an impromptu Cyrano: “He wrote nice in all caps. What does that mean? What do I write back?” Then we write a response and delete it 10 times before sending a message that will appear 2 care, but not 2 much. If all goes well, a date will be arranged.

Whether you like it or not, the digital age has produced a new format for modern romance, and natural selection may be favoring the quick-thumbed quip peddler over the confident, ice-breaking alpha male. Or maybe we are hiding behind the cloak of digital text and spell-check to present superior versions of ourselves while using these less intimate forms of communication to accelerate the courting process. So what’s it really good for?

There is some argument about who actually invented text messaging, but I think it’s safe to say it was a man. Multiple studies have shown that the average man uses about half as many words per day as women, thus text messaging. It eliminates hellos and goodbyes and cuts right to the chase. Now, if that’s not male behavior, I don’t know what is. It’s also great for passing notes. there is something fun about sharing secrets with your date while in the company of others. think of texting as a modern whisper in your lover’s car.

Sending sweet nothings on Twitter or Facebook is also fun. in some ways, it’s no different than sending flowers to the office: You are declaring your love for everyone to see. Who doesn’t like to be publicly adored. Just remember that what you post is out there and there’s some stuff you can’t un-see. But the reality is that we communicate with every part of our being, and there are times when we must use it all. When someone needs us, he or she needs all of us. There’s no text that can replace a loving touch when someone we love is hurting.

We haven’t lost romance in the digital age, but we may be neglecting it. In doing so, antiquated art forms are taking on new importance. The power of a hand-written letter is greater than ever. It’s personal and deliberate means more than an email or text ever will. It has a unique scent. It requires deciphering. But, most important, it’s flawed There are errors in handwriting, punctuation, grammar, and spelling that show our vulnerability. And vulnerability is the essence of romance. It’s the art of being uncalculated, the willingness to look foolish, the courage to say,

“This is me, and I’m interested in you enough to show you my flaws with the hope that you may embrace me for all that I am but, more importantly, all that I am not.”

- Ashton Kutcher (Source)


every actor has his secrets

in this case, every actress has her secrets.

acting is about truth. we all have our own takes of what a character is like. there was once a famous director who always asked writers, if there was one person (dead, alive, fiction, or non-fiction) that the character they created would be, who would it be? not simply because he was going to take that person and imitate their actions for no one could ever really do that. he asked because this served as a model. a mold to which an actor could simply put his or herself in to see what the words the character says tastes like. tastes like in their own mouth. the information said is not what makes up the character. it is about asking what kind of person talks like this? what kind of person uses these particular words to express what they are feeling. acting is about truth. if we simply played the words and not the action, there is no truth behind it. there needs to be a genuine intent to say what the character says, do what the character does, and feel what the character feels. acting is not about taking on the body of somebody else. it is about locating that character within you thus forming another arrangement of you. acting is about truth. why you say or feel things a certain way is exclusive only to you. your director, your fellow actors, the audience... no one needs to know what you are thinking when you say something. why you start fiddling with your fingers, why you feel heavy on one side, why it feels like you can't even hold up your chin, why you say "o me" the way you do.

every actress has her secrets.

i am hermia.

i saw the sein

George: *looks at woman at the cash register .. "You think she's happy?"
Jerry: "Who?"
George: "The Cashier"
Jerry: "Ruthie Cohen?"
George: "You know her name?"
Jerry: "Sure"
George: "I don't think I've ever spoken to her"
Jerry: "Maybe that's why she's happy"

Maybe so, Jerry. Maybe so.

The debate between, destiny and free will can go on and on and on. How do we know if the cashier is happier without meeting George. How does George know that? If he doesn't say Hi to her, it might me ruining his destiny. What if not saying hi to the cashier IS his destiny? What if saying Hi to her is his destiny? It's too big of a subject, no one wins, but we all live. And we should live, in balance. - God is Love

(via readingisfree)


my heart hurts

I was afraid to take the risk. I was hesitant. But somehow in the shuffle of things, it felt right. You feel like a douche but I feel like a dumbass. I feel like a dumbass because I put everything I had into this; a dumbass because every day I was falling harder and harder, you were falling out; a dumbass because I had to wake up this morning and tell myself, HE DOESN’T LOVE YOU ANYMORE; a dumbass because I still do.

My heart hurts. My chest feels lopsided because it feels like there’s something that’s 24532678 pounds in my left side. Everything I have, I carry with this heart. I told you to be careful with it cause it’s the only one I got. And now, I tell myself… so this is heartbreak, huh. This is what it feels like to have your heart ache.

I just can’t believe it nor will I ever understand it. What we had, it was good. So good. Better than the rest, you said. Then why. Why don’t you love me anymore. Why can’t you love me anymore. Why don’t you want to love me anymore. I wish it was a bad dream or a cruel joke because hey, everyday jerk love right?

But it isn’t. And this is why my heart hurts.