I just found this on my laptop. I thought I'd posted it on the 1st, but I had people over and must have forgotten. Anyway, long over due review of Cobra Starship's Visit to Club Hell! In Providence RI.
Cobra Starship in Hell.
August 31st 2009.
Last night I attended one of the oddest concerts I’ve ever experienced. Cobra Starship was playing a tiny local venue as their last stop on their “Hot mess across the US" tour.
A friend and myself arrived around 2PM to hang out, meet some new friends and of course, watch the bands as they unloaded. While waiting in line, we noticed several band members, Victoria Asher (CS), Ryland Blackinton (CS), Alex Suarez (CS), Andrew Goldstein (TFNB), Ryan O‘Connor (TA) and Seth Johnson (TA) milling around outside. Opening bands, the Audition and the Friday Night Boys were doing all they’re own set-up. Roadies were nowhere to be seen.
Everyone involved in the tour looked just about ready to collapse. However, most of the band members who were greeting fans were still able to be courteous, attentive and overall polite. Ryan O’connor, the drummer for The Audition looked as though he had a drumstick lodged in a very painful area of his anatomy. Maybe he was just tired.
Gabe Saporta eventually made an appearance (to the joy of 200+ screaming girls) and was immediately surrounded by people waiting for autographs and photos. Most of my time in line was spent right by the loading dock (it’s actually a door, but lets sound professional here). Alex, a girl I met in line, Bunny, and myself spent most of the time holding the door open (it only opens from the inside), telling band members that they could in fact bring they’re various instruments through said door and did not, in fact have to walk half a block.
Through this door the three of us ‘met’ and talked to several band members. At one point, Victoria Asher showed up looking just about ready to die, but was still as polite as ever when approached by a fan and given a gift.
Just as Gabe was getting surrounded, Alex Suarez (Bassist for CS) came out and leaned just outside the door frame to watch the commotion. We got into a conversation about being surrounded in such a way, by fans that just want to touch you, and if he ever got scared with that kind of attention. He said he hadn’t.
That was another small thing that bothered me. None of the bands on the tour had any noticeable security. I’m not saying that they should have 20+ bodyguards and bomb-sniffing dogs. But a couple of bouncers would have been nice.
Anyway, after several hours of waiting and 2 pizza’s we were allowed into the club.
First off was DJ Skeet Skeet. I’d never been to a concert that opened with a DJ, so I was surprised at what a great job he did. He knew exactly what songs to play, and exactly what to say to get us pumped. Given the chance, I would defiantly go to a club and see him again.
After about a 45 minute warm up with Skeet Skeet, The Friday night boys took the stage. After not-so-legally downloading their album “Off the deep end” the night before, I was really excited to hear them live. The album has wonderful lyrics and the vocalist Andrew Goldstein has a voice that could easily be compared to Jonathan Cook or Nate Smith (Forever the sickest kids, Mercy Mercedes). Overall the album was pretty generic for a Fueled by Ramen boy band, The first two songs, Permanent Heartbreak and Stupid Love letter are both pretty good songs for the heartbroken, while others on the album Molly Makeout and How I Met Your Mother show that they also have a lighter tone.
Having said all this I would love to tell you how much I enjoyed seeing the group live. But I can’t. Out of all of the concert’s I’ve been to I can honestly say The Friday Night Boy’s Performance was one of, if not the absolute worse performances I’ve ever heard, they were having extreme technical difficulties. So I can’t exactly blame the band. The first two songs they played had the bass up far too high, and the vocals way to low. When they finally realized how many people in the audience had headaches, they did turn it down. Which left us with the drums. Oh, dear sound manager…where art thou?
Club Hell has great acoustics, so the band could have gotten away with playing the drum acoustically, or if anything, having the volume on the microphones down very, very low. Unfortunately, no one realized this. Which made it so we still couldn’t hear a word from the vocalist. By the time the set was over I wasn’t the only one with a pained expression on my face. I did catch a drumstick though. Which kind of didn’t do anything to make up for it. I did go over and buy their CD afterwards though, you know, to make up for the whole illegal downloading thing.
Next up was The Audition. All I can say is wow. Daniel Stevens is amazing. His voice is amazing, his attitude is amazing, and everything about him could simply be summed up with the word amazing. I’ve seen maybe one or two other singers with the amount of stage presence he was capable of. He reminded me a lot of Travis Clark from We The Kings, and anyone who has seen Travis live will know exactly what I mean. There are very few singers capable of completely drawing you into their own world. Daniel is definitely one of those singers. They did a quick sound check, and after spending five minutes talking over our heads and making hand gestures to the sound guys in back - had none of the problems the previous band had dealt with.
The music got all of us jumping, excited, and over the headaches and the grumbling. At one point, a girl in front of me had written ‘Guitar pick?” on her arm and during one of the songs, Daniel gave her an odd expression and grabbed her wrist to read it closer, he smiled at her and made a motion at her to wait for a bit. Two songs later he slipped a guitar pick into her hand. It was sweet to watch.
I suggest that anyone who can see the Audition live go do so, or at least check out their Myspace. I can see this band getting big really quick, and it looks like it’ll be fun to jump on the train that is The Audition.
After the Audition left the stage it was empty. For about an hour. I don’t know who decided in having such a long intermission, but it wasn’t fun. Everyone became restless and bored waiting for Cobra to appear, so restless that I saw several people make a B-line to the door.
After about forty-five minutes people started moving things around the stage and everyone got excited. Unfortunately, Cobra wasn’t coming on. But DJ Skeet Skeet was back with a singer called Vita. Who may have been wonderful or terrible – we couldn’t tell due to microphone problems. We mostly heard Karaoke and saw Vita as she bounced up and down on stage. It was interesting.
Finally, after another twenty minutes it was time for what most of us had gone to see, Cobra Starship. I’d seen Cobra Starship three times in the past and was hoping for something just a bit different.
Everyone in the band looked tired, so much in fact that at one point during the set Victoria was leaning on a pillar on stage instead of doing her awesome hip-sway. Cobra’s Set consisted of songs from “While the city sleeps we rule the streets” and "Viva la Cobra!"
They played Send My Love To The Dance Floor, The Church Of Hot Addiction, Snakes on a Plane, The City Is At Way, Guilty Pleasure, Damn You Look Good and I’m Drunk, Smile For The Paparazzi, Kiss My Sass, Pleasure Ryland (as an Encore), Good Girls Go Bad, and Pete Wentz is The Only Reason We’re Famous.
I can’t say I was disappointed per say, because Cobra doesn’t disappoint, be it tech problems, weather issues (I did watch them at an outdoor venue during a tornado warning) or any other boatload of issues that can come up during concerts, Gabe and his crew always seem able to make it better. But I would have enjoyed it if they had performed more songs from the new album; I mean it was the "Hot Mess!" tour.
I made several observations while watching them perform, Gabe was as energetic and bouncy as always, but his voice wasn’t what it was say… last November. I know he ended up having surgery on his throat after singing with cysts and maybe that had something to do with it, or maybe it was how tired the band was. Either way, it was noticeable. He also left chunks of songs to the fans that I’d never seen him skip before.
Between songs Gabe talked to the fans a bit, and then made an introduction to his next song, he’s used the same intro live for several years, but it’s gotten re-worded and reworked as Cobra’s evolved. I think we can all relate to it, and it directly relates to the band’s attitude and what they’ve wanted to get across. Several times during the show Gabe mentioned what people in his network said he couldn’t do and what people in the music industry said he couldn’t do.
(I’m paraphrasing here)
“They said I wouldn’t make it,” But he did.
“They told me no one would listen to a band that didn’t have guitars” The Guitars were handed off to stagehands and Alex and Ryland took over a couple of Synthesizers.
But I think he made his entire point clear with his intro:
“In life, there will always be people who want you to fail, no matter what you do, no matter what business you’re involved in, no matter what you study, they’re gonna want to watch you fall. And the only thing I want you to remember when you see those people are the three words in this song. And those words are Kiss. My. Sass.”
Fangs Up!
<3
Dommers
PS: after the show I found one of Alex's Guitar Picks in my bra. Like I said, interesting night.
Monday, October 26, 2009
Saturday, September 19, 2009
Frog was an asshole
Earlier this week I had the unpleasant task of holding on to a good friends hand as she screamed and cried and begged for her pain to stop after a reckless cousin dislocated her knee.
While I don’t doubt at all that her experience was much more unpleasant then mine. I think both us would have preferred the whole bloody incident to have occurred to someone else.
What held the lack of surprises afterwards, after she’d been carted away in the ambulance, was the way people decided to make the night about themselves. As I watched several people complain about how loud she cried, or about what a baby she was or how people just can’t control the drama – the phrase ‘They eat they’re own” crossed my mind.
As I listened to a friend-of-a-friend tell her not so delightful story of how she broke her leg on a –legasp- mountain and –legasp- didn’t realize it was that hurt and –legasp- didn’t cry and –legasp- hiked all the way back down by herself, I looked in on my self and wondered ‘What the fuck are you doing with these people?”
Now, don’t get me wrong there were – a few – people that were sympathetic and dare I say it – human – about the whole thing. But most of the people there were just out for the attention.
I don’t think I ever really got it, using someone else’s misery to get off, to come out looking better. Just never got the appeal.
I realized a long time ago that in the long run people don’t really change. By age 12 we’re all pretty much at the point of no return. No refunds, no exchanges. As is. That’s it. Take your receipt and shove it.
So I’ve started looking at myself. Really looking at myself. Are there things I’d like to change?
Of course.
Are they things I can change?
Some of them.
Am I happy with who I am?
Still working on that one.
What I do know, is that no matter who you are
– that person that needs to put someone else down to feel good,
- the person who will never be comfortable in they’re own skin.
- the kid doing anything to fit in,
- or the girl who decided a long time ago she didn’t need any help. Ever. From anyone.
You’re that person.
That’s it, that’s all you are.
Don’t like it?
Then prove me wrong.
Change.
Because I’m getting pretty sick of you assholes.
<3
Dommers.
While I don’t doubt at all that her experience was much more unpleasant then mine. I think both us would have preferred the whole bloody incident to have occurred to someone else.
What held the lack of surprises afterwards, after she’d been carted away in the ambulance, was the way people decided to make the night about themselves. As I watched several people complain about how loud she cried, or about what a baby she was or how people just can’t control the drama – the phrase ‘They eat they’re own” crossed my mind.
As I listened to a friend-of-a-friend tell her not so delightful story of how she broke her leg on a –legasp- mountain and –legasp- didn’t realize it was that hurt and –legasp- didn’t cry and –legasp- hiked all the way back down by herself, I looked in on my self and wondered ‘What the fuck are you doing with these people?”
Now, don’t get me wrong there were – a few – people that were sympathetic and dare I say it – human – about the whole thing. But most of the people there were just out for the attention.
I don’t think I ever really got it, using someone else’s misery to get off, to come out looking better. Just never got the appeal.
I realized a long time ago that in the long run people don’t really change. By age 12 we’re all pretty much at the point of no return. No refunds, no exchanges. As is. That’s it. Take your receipt and shove it.
So I’ve started looking at myself. Really looking at myself. Are there things I’d like to change?
Of course.
Are they things I can change?
Some of them.
Am I happy with who I am?
Still working on that one.
What I do know, is that no matter who you are
– that person that needs to put someone else down to feel good,
- the person who will never be comfortable in they’re own skin.
- the kid doing anything to fit in,
- or the girl who decided a long time ago she didn’t need any help. Ever. From anyone.
You’re that person.
That’s it, that’s all you are.
Don’t like it?
Then prove me wrong.
Change.
Because I’m getting pretty sick of you assholes.
<3
Dommers.
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Just Friends
Authors note: I wrote this under the influence of 'The scene is dead, long live the scene' by Cobra Starship. I wrote it up quickly at 1 am in a crappy hotel room somewhere in Virginia. My first attempt at a more intimate scene. Grammatical errors should be expected.
They were just friends.
So she seriously wondered why the heck she was sitting there, 2000 miles away from home, in an exceedingly dusty parking lot. Waiting for him to come back.
She pressed into the door of his old rusted Jeep, which creaked in protest at being opened. Checked her cell phone again, nothing.
Giving the door a hard push, she hopped into the dirt, then slammed the door closed
Holding her cell phone high in the air, she proceeded to jump up and down, which did nothing but kick dirt up, which she inhaled – and quickly began to sneeze.
He smiled slightly at her as he approached, “Just one bed” he offered apologetically. She raised an eyebrow.
“Don’t worry, I’ll take the floor” he added sheepishly. She shrugged as he passed her to open the back of the Jeep.
“Doesn’t matter to me” She said, tugging one of her packs out from under the pile of of his stuff and shrugging it onto her shoulder.
He grabbed his own and led her towards one of the side rooms, she dragged her heels in the dirt and pouted.
That had been the most he’d said to her in the last thirty hours. She stared at him from behind, and noted that for once – she could honestly say he looked like hell. His usually well kept hair was unwashed and stuck out oddly, he had a strong five o clock shadow, and looked more then ready to pass out.
‘Then again’ she mused, ‘ I probably look just as bad’. They’d been driving almost two days straight and they were both exhausted.
Slipping the keycard into the scanner, he held the door for her with a mock bow. She smiled at him and he grinned like a little boy. It was the first real smile she’d seen out of him since she’d jumped into his truck two days ago.
Usually she couldn’t get a word in edge-wise with him. But this trip was different. His jaw was set into a tight frown, and she hadn’t been able to get him to relax no matter what she’d done.
She wondered what she had expected as she emptied her stuff onto the single queen size bed in the middle of the room. She’d hoped they would be able to catch up a bit – but they’d been drifting a part a bit recently. She chided herself silently while pulling out a set of clean clothes. His mother was dead. Why the heck would she expect him to want to bond with an old friend?
She sighed audibly and he turned from flipping through a menu on a small desk on the other side of the road.
“Don’t be sad,” he said softly. “This’ll be over soon”
She nodded, and the room went silent for a moment. He hugged her from behind and she stiffened. “I really do appreciate you coming with me” he offered.
“I wanted to come” she answered.
“I don’t know what I would have done if I had to come alone…” He trailed off and moved away.
She didn’t know what to say, so she stayed silent, then collapsed onto the bed.
“I’m gonna take a shower….” He told her as he headed towards the back of the room.
“u-hmmm” she mumbled snuggling a pillow.
Roughly ten minutes later he appeared shirtless in front of the TV. He looked better, she noted.
“You look like hell,” he teased, and she threw a pillow at him. He caught it, then gave it an odd look, gave the same look to the bed, then to her.
She sighed. Then shifted until the right end of the bed. “Get in” she ordered, and he did.
She woke up slowly, wondering why the room was so dark. He was snuggling beside her and tugging her closer. She rolled over, facing him. He stared back at her, startled and sheepish.
“What’s wrong?” she asked sinking back into her pillow.
He stared at her in silence for a moment, before shifting so he could rest his chin on her head, pulling her firmly against his chest.
She stiffened slightly, no longer use to the contact; she vaguely noted that he hadn’t really touched her in years, not since they’d broken up. Nuzzling into the crook of his neck she sighed happily.
“Had a nightmare” he whispered into her hair.
“Want to talk about it?” she asked
“No” he answered quickly. Then a moment later, “Don’t leave.”
Her eyes softened, and she placed a quick butterfly kiss just below his ear. “I can’t.” She teased. “You have the keys”
She shifted under his arm, “Lighten up.” She hissed slightly, “You hug me any tighter and something’s gonna break” She groaned softly when he retreated quickly to the opposite side of the bed as if burnt. He apologized quietly and rolled over, turning his back on her.
She huffed, wishing he wasn’t so sensitive, and wondering if he’d always been this scared of rejection or if it was new. Crawling over to him. She snuggled against him from behind, and tickled his ribs a bit, causing him to curl into the fetal position.
“I didn’t mean it like that…you can, we can cuddle if you want, just don’t hold me like I’m trying to run away okay?”
He didn’t move for a moment, but when he did she found herself pressed firmly against him, he nuzzled her hair softly and slid a hand under her shirt to rub her lower back.
She smiled brightly and nuzzled into his chest, yawning, “going back to bed?” she asked groggily, and he shook his head ‘no’.
She glanced up at him the best she could, remembering he’d been a born and bred insomniac for years.
“Want me to stay up with..” “No.” he cut her off firmly. “You sleep”
“K…” she mumbled, really already half asleep.
He watched her for several minutes, rubbing knots out of her back as he found them, he smiled down at her, truly happy he’d asked her to come with him, and he kissed her forehead softly, before drifting off to sleep himself.
She woke up to an annoying ring far off to her left, and she lifted her head and squinted when she heard him curse loudly beside her. She stared at him as he reached over to nightstand to grab his phone.
He glanced at the I.D. before giving her an apologetic glance.
She rolled her eyes as he flipped the phone open and greeted the person on the other line, keeping his eyes on her. She knew exactly who was calling from the look he gave her, the same look he gave her every time his girlfriend called.
Sighing, she threw her legs off the side of the bed and made to get up, but he grabbed at her wrist and made a movement with his head to incline her into lying back down. Jerking away, she closed the bathroom door on him.
Washing her face, she listened to him as he answered all her questions, how was he doing, where was he, had he started packing his moms things yet…no questions about her of course, and she wondered if he’d even said he was bringing someone alone.
Probably not.
She sighed and stared at herself in the mirror.
Wondering why she felt so bad for herself, why she felt so jealous.
After all.
They were just friends.
They were just friends.
So she seriously wondered why the heck she was sitting there, 2000 miles away from home, in an exceedingly dusty parking lot. Waiting for him to come back.
She pressed into the door of his old rusted Jeep, which creaked in protest at being opened. Checked her cell phone again, nothing.
Giving the door a hard push, she hopped into the dirt, then slammed the door closed
Holding her cell phone high in the air, she proceeded to jump up and down, which did nothing but kick dirt up, which she inhaled – and quickly began to sneeze.
He smiled slightly at her as he approached, “Just one bed” he offered apologetically. She raised an eyebrow.
“Don’t worry, I’ll take the floor” he added sheepishly. She shrugged as he passed her to open the back of the Jeep.
“Doesn’t matter to me” She said, tugging one of her packs out from under the pile of of his stuff and shrugging it onto her shoulder.
He grabbed his own and led her towards one of the side rooms, she dragged her heels in the dirt and pouted.
That had been the most he’d said to her in the last thirty hours. She stared at him from behind, and noted that for once – she could honestly say he looked like hell. His usually well kept hair was unwashed and stuck out oddly, he had a strong five o clock shadow, and looked more then ready to pass out.
‘Then again’ she mused, ‘ I probably look just as bad’. They’d been driving almost two days straight and they were both exhausted.
Slipping the keycard into the scanner, he held the door for her with a mock bow. She smiled at him and he grinned like a little boy. It was the first real smile she’d seen out of him since she’d jumped into his truck two days ago.
Usually she couldn’t get a word in edge-wise with him. But this trip was different. His jaw was set into a tight frown, and she hadn’t been able to get him to relax no matter what she’d done.
She wondered what she had expected as she emptied her stuff onto the single queen size bed in the middle of the room. She’d hoped they would be able to catch up a bit – but they’d been drifting a part a bit recently. She chided herself silently while pulling out a set of clean clothes. His mother was dead. Why the heck would she expect him to want to bond with an old friend?
She sighed audibly and he turned from flipping through a menu on a small desk on the other side of the road.
“Don’t be sad,” he said softly. “This’ll be over soon”
She nodded, and the room went silent for a moment. He hugged her from behind and she stiffened. “I really do appreciate you coming with me” he offered.
“I wanted to come” she answered.
“I don’t know what I would have done if I had to come alone…” He trailed off and moved away.
She didn’t know what to say, so she stayed silent, then collapsed onto the bed.
“I’m gonna take a shower….” He told her as he headed towards the back of the room.
“u-hmmm” she mumbled snuggling a pillow.
Roughly ten minutes later he appeared shirtless in front of the TV. He looked better, she noted.
“You look like hell,” he teased, and she threw a pillow at him. He caught it, then gave it an odd look, gave the same look to the bed, then to her.
She sighed. Then shifted until the right end of the bed. “Get in” she ordered, and he did.
She woke up slowly, wondering why the room was so dark. He was snuggling beside her and tugging her closer. She rolled over, facing him. He stared back at her, startled and sheepish.
“What’s wrong?” she asked sinking back into her pillow.
He stared at her in silence for a moment, before shifting so he could rest his chin on her head, pulling her firmly against his chest.
She stiffened slightly, no longer use to the contact; she vaguely noted that he hadn’t really touched her in years, not since they’d broken up. Nuzzling into the crook of his neck she sighed happily.
“Had a nightmare” he whispered into her hair.
“Want to talk about it?” she asked
“No” he answered quickly. Then a moment later, “Don’t leave.”
Her eyes softened, and she placed a quick butterfly kiss just below his ear. “I can’t.” She teased. “You have the keys”
She shifted under his arm, “Lighten up.” She hissed slightly, “You hug me any tighter and something’s gonna break” She groaned softly when he retreated quickly to the opposite side of the bed as if burnt. He apologized quietly and rolled over, turning his back on her.
She huffed, wishing he wasn’t so sensitive, and wondering if he’d always been this scared of rejection or if it was new. Crawling over to him. She snuggled against him from behind, and tickled his ribs a bit, causing him to curl into the fetal position.
“I didn’t mean it like that…you can, we can cuddle if you want, just don’t hold me like I’m trying to run away okay?”
He didn’t move for a moment, but when he did she found herself pressed firmly against him, he nuzzled her hair softly and slid a hand under her shirt to rub her lower back.
She smiled brightly and nuzzled into his chest, yawning, “going back to bed?” she asked groggily, and he shook his head ‘no’.
She glanced up at him the best she could, remembering he’d been a born and bred insomniac for years.
“Want me to stay up with..” “No.” he cut her off firmly. “You sleep”
“K…” she mumbled, really already half asleep.
He watched her for several minutes, rubbing knots out of her back as he found them, he smiled down at her, truly happy he’d asked her to come with him, and he kissed her forehead softly, before drifting off to sleep himself.
She woke up to an annoying ring far off to her left, and she lifted her head and squinted when she heard him curse loudly beside her. She stared at him as he reached over to nightstand to grab his phone.
He glanced at the I.D. before giving her an apologetic glance.
She rolled her eyes as he flipped the phone open and greeted the person on the other line, keeping his eyes on her. She knew exactly who was calling from the look he gave her, the same look he gave her every time his girlfriend called.
Sighing, she threw her legs off the side of the bed and made to get up, but he grabbed at her wrist and made a movement with his head to incline her into lying back down. Jerking away, she closed the bathroom door on him.
Washing her face, she listened to him as he answered all her questions, how was he doing, where was he, had he started packing his moms things yet…no questions about her of course, and she wondered if he’d even said he was bringing someone alone.
Probably not.
She sighed and stared at herself in the mirror.
Wondering why she felt so bad for herself, why she felt so jealous.
After all.
They were just friends.
Monday, July 20, 2009
One Show. No Encores.
Life is a show. And we’re all actors. We’re the villains, the white knights, the lovers and sometimes the anti-heroes.
We’re the friends, the partial characters, the thieves, and the killers.
Life is an act, a show we don’t get recognized or paid for. A lifetime performance.
Something none of us auditioned for, but something we were thrown into, forced into. Like a set of blond twins with a couple of stage parents.
If there’s one thing I learned from growing up with a theater background – it’s that shows do not always go as planned. People forget they’re lines, costumes tear, and people break under the pressure.
Sounds a bit like life doesn’t it?
So, if you think about it – The world is one big theater.
The problem is that we don’t have a script to memorize, or a director to tell us what the heck we’re doing.
In the end- we’re the actors, the producers and the directors of our own lives.
Talk about a crappy metaphor eh?
I was told recently that I don’t know what I want to do with my life because I don’t know myself. I don’t know who I really am. Maybe that’s true.
But that got me wondering. Do any of us know who we really are?
We’re all actors. But we’re also all liars.
Everyone is a liar.
For no other reasons then the fact that everyone lies.
So the problem with life isn’t that we’re liars, or that we’re actors.
It’s that we’re both.
Because we’re all nothing more then lying actors, and we all have been since we could learn to talk – we’re good at it. Great actually.
Maybe it’s completely unintentional. Maybe you don’t even know you’re lying anymore.
Maybe you truly believe the character you play everyday is who you really are.
Maybe you never thought about it.
But take a day. Think about everything you say or do. Count how many lies you find yourself performing.
Does it feel like you?
Here’s the truth about the truth.
It hurts.
A lot.
So we act.
We lie.
We lie so we don’t get hurt. We lie so others don’t get hurt. We lie so the characters we play can stay characters.
So no one will know the difference.
So in the end - we’re all just really good actors.
Maybe we’re all so good we don’t even know who we really are.
But we better start figuring out.
Because in the end, all life is…
Is
One
Show
No
Encores.
<3
Dommers.
We’re the friends, the partial characters, the thieves, and the killers.
Life is an act, a show we don’t get recognized or paid for. A lifetime performance.
Something none of us auditioned for, but something we were thrown into, forced into. Like a set of blond twins with a couple of stage parents.
If there’s one thing I learned from growing up with a theater background – it’s that shows do not always go as planned. People forget they’re lines, costumes tear, and people break under the pressure.
Sounds a bit like life doesn’t it?
So, if you think about it – The world is one big theater.
The problem is that we don’t have a script to memorize, or a director to tell us what the heck we’re doing.
In the end- we’re the actors, the producers and the directors of our own lives.
Talk about a crappy metaphor eh?
I was told recently that I don’t know what I want to do with my life because I don’t know myself. I don’t know who I really am. Maybe that’s true.
But that got me wondering. Do any of us know who we really are?
We’re all actors. But we’re also all liars.
Everyone is a liar.
For no other reasons then the fact that everyone lies.
So the problem with life isn’t that we’re liars, or that we’re actors.
It’s that we’re both.
Because we’re all nothing more then lying actors, and we all have been since we could learn to talk – we’re good at it. Great actually.
Maybe it’s completely unintentional. Maybe you don’t even know you’re lying anymore.
Maybe you truly believe the character you play everyday is who you really are.
Maybe you never thought about it.
But take a day. Think about everything you say or do. Count how many lies you find yourself performing.
Does it feel like you?
Here’s the truth about the truth.
It hurts.
A lot.
So we act.
We lie.
We lie so we don’t get hurt. We lie so others don’t get hurt. We lie so the characters we play can stay characters.
So no one will know the difference.
So in the end - we’re all just really good actors.
Maybe we’re all so good we don’t even know who we really are.
But we better start figuring out.
Because in the end, all life is…
Is
One
Show
No
Encores.
<3
Dommers.
Sunday, July 5, 2009
Mid(teen) crisis.
Where did all out childish hopes and joys go?
Who decided I wanted to grow up?
Who knows how to make it stop?
I’ve been pretty nostalgic recently, not even for last year, when my social life was pretty good and I had lots of friends, I don’t think I even care about that anymore. What I do know is that I miss my childhood.
That’s weird isn’t it? A 16 year old wanting to be a little kid again. It’s usually the other way around isn’t it? Wanting to jump the next two years and finally become adults. I’m not like that.
I, myself, miss my construction paper, my crayons, and my snack time.
I miss the time when you really thought you COULD be anything, or do anything
I think I miss kindergarten most.
I mean, what do you have to worry about in kindergarten? Regular Milk, or chocolate…decisions decisions…
Remember being little, you never worried about anything, and your parents made most of your choices for you, which – if you didn’t like, you’d forgotten about the next day.
You could play with anyone on the school ground, there was no separation of stereotypes, no shunning, and – when you said, “you’re my new best friend” you actually meant it.
It’s almost terrible how fast we’re made to grow up in this country.
What with this whole twelve years olds with babies, and 9 year olds with cell phones.
WTF?
I wish they told you life was going to be such a disappointment. Maybe you could make a decision about if you wanted to grow up or not.
Who would have left they’re naptimes and crayons if they knew how backstabbing, painful, disappointing and horror-filled, the world would be?
I know I wouldn’t have.
So, lets say your best days are that of kindergarten, and it just gets worse from there. Who the hell wants to last till middle age?
Just shoot us now. Lets get it all over with. Who wants to deal with another 20 years of crappy people, crappy education, job hunting, house hunting, friend hunting, hate groups, school shootings, environmental destruction and madness…. all the religious extremists and republicans running amok. Can someone buy me a ticket back to kidville please? What happened to worrying about how many pokemon you caught that day? I miss my freaking pokemon!
So, I think we can officially say that Brianna wants to go hang out with Peter Pan and the evil mermaids of neverland. (Speaking of which – yes Michael Jackson is dead, and no – I do not wish to visit his neverland…)
Anyone with me?
<3
Dommers.
Who decided I wanted to grow up?
Who knows how to make it stop?
I’ve been pretty nostalgic recently, not even for last year, when my social life was pretty good and I had lots of friends, I don’t think I even care about that anymore. What I do know is that I miss my childhood.
That’s weird isn’t it? A 16 year old wanting to be a little kid again. It’s usually the other way around isn’t it? Wanting to jump the next two years and finally become adults. I’m not like that.
I, myself, miss my construction paper, my crayons, and my snack time.
I miss the time when you really thought you COULD be anything, or do anything
I think I miss kindergarten most.
I mean, what do you have to worry about in kindergarten? Regular Milk, or chocolate…decisions decisions…
Remember being little, you never worried about anything, and your parents made most of your choices for you, which – if you didn’t like, you’d forgotten about the next day.
You could play with anyone on the school ground, there was no separation of stereotypes, no shunning, and – when you said, “you’re my new best friend” you actually meant it.
It’s almost terrible how fast we’re made to grow up in this country.
What with this whole twelve years olds with babies, and 9 year olds with cell phones.
WTF?
I wish they told you life was going to be such a disappointment. Maybe you could make a decision about if you wanted to grow up or not.
Who would have left they’re naptimes and crayons if they knew how backstabbing, painful, disappointing and horror-filled, the world would be?
I know I wouldn’t have.
So, lets say your best days are that of kindergarten, and it just gets worse from there. Who the hell wants to last till middle age?
Just shoot us now. Lets get it all over with. Who wants to deal with another 20 years of crappy people, crappy education, job hunting, house hunting, friend hunting, hate groups, school shootings, environmental destruction and madness…. all the religious extremists and republicans running amok. Can someone buy me a ticket back to kidville please? What happened to worrying about how many pokemon you caught that day? I miss my freaking pokemon!
So, I think we can officially say that Brianna wants to go hang out with Peter Pan and the evil mermaids of neverland. (Speaking of which – yes Michael Jackson is dead, and no – I do not wish to visit his neverland…)
Anyone with me?
<3
Dommers.
Friday, June 5, 2009
We. can't. Let. go.
We feed each others depression.
We get so used to it that we can’t be happy.
We feed each others darkness
We learn to fear the light.
We feed each others loneliness.
We cling to each other for comfort.
We encourage each others dismay
We need to feel better the then other
We allow each others nostalgia
We can’t look at the future.
We become dependent on each other.
It’s all we can do.
We feed each others pain
So maybe we won’t get hurt next time.
We.
can't.
Let.
go.
Dedicated to a certain soon-to-be-ex friend of mine.
<3
Dommers.
We get so used to it that we can’t be happy.
We feed each others darkness
We learn to fear the light.
We feed each others loneliness.
We cling to each other for comfort.
We encourage each others dismay
We need to feel better the then other
We allow each others nostalgia
We can’t look at the future.
We become dependent on each other.
It’s all we can do.
We feed each others pain
So maybe we won’t get hurt next time.
We.
can't.
Let.
go.
Dedicated to a certain soon-to-be-ex friend of mine.
<3
Dommers.
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Drivers Ed...
What is it with the scare tactics they use in Drivers ed?
have they been proven to work at all?
Because when I go out and get smashed, I'm totally gonna remember those videos they showed us - and not drive myself home.
because our memories are so clear when we're drunk right?
Drinking impairs your judgment right? That's what they keep saying, can't drink and drive cause drinking impairs your judgment.
So I'm going to be able to judge if I'm too impaired to drive?
Right.
That makes SO much sense.
And you know what? That video would have been so much more dramatic if I hadn't seen a member of the victims family kill her husband on law and order last week. Who does the casting for those things?
Geez.
Anyway, Drivers ed until the 17th, so I'll have late/no updates until everything settles down.
<3
Dommers.
PS: there's a boy in my class that looks like William Beckett. It's kinda insanely adorable.
have they been proven to work at all?
Because when I go out and get smashed, I'm totally gonna remember those videos they showed us - and not drive myself home.
because our memories are so clear when we're drunk right?
Drinking impairs your judgment right? That's what they keep saying, can't drink and drive cause drinking impairs your judgment.
So I'm going to be able to judge if I'm too impaired to drive?
Right.
That makes SO much sense.
And you know what? That video would have been so much more dramatic if I hadn't seen a member of the victims family kill her husband on law and order last week. Who does the casting for those things?
Geez.
Anyway, Drivers ed until the 17th, so I'll have late/no updates until everything settles down.
<3
Dommers.
PS: there's a boy in my class that looks like William Beckett. It's kinda insanely adorable.
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