"I don't know why we are here, but I'm pretty sure that it is not in order to enjoy ourselves." Ludwig Wittgenstein

Thursday, November 26, 2009


No one understands who I am, or the pain of what it is to be me, just plain me. No one “gets” how hard it is to just hold on to who I am. It’s just so difficult, so incredibly difficult, to hold out against what the world is so desperately trying to make me be. I won’t be that person, that puppet, that imitation of myself. I’m not that person. I’m someone else.

With that, Lola finished reading the lines from the page, laid the script down on the chair next to her, and in front of an astonished director and hushed room, began to sob uncontrollably at her realization of how perfectly one’s life can imitate art.

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