PERFORM
I've recently been thinking about this word quite a lot. It started as a prompt for my design class but then turned into this constant voice inside my head telling me that i'm just as good a performer as the person next to me.
Sometimes I fail to notice when my laugh sounds hollow, when the sides of my mouth hurt from being pulled to the sides, when my head nods before the words register in my mind.
Then I wonder if i'm alone in this.
Do all of us have these moments when were just trudging through time?
And as I replay the events of the day when I turn down the lights or as I eat my dinner, I see everyone with a tight smile and words that don't sound like what they were meant to be.
Were we both disagreeing when we both agreed to each other?
And what did we achieve? A lost conversation that could have made us see each other better and in turn made our relationship less of the excuse it has become.
What do you need as a performer? An audience.
The scariest part is when you are you're own audience, drinking up the act in front of you even though you know very well no one can pull a rabbit out of thin air, but it's easy to get swept away by the theatrics of it all because to dig deeper would mean to break down the performance you've spent years mastering.
But can you actually stop putting up this facade in this calculated world where everything you say, every little thing you do, everything you don't say or do, is dissected and rolled around and twisted until not much of it remains.
Would I prefer to bare myself to this unflinching place when I know that putting up an act is easier and would save me a lot of hurt and time?
Is there a fine line between performing and fooling yourself?
Is it worth filtering and censoring and not sounding like you ?
And do you know when your first performance was? because that is when you know what 'you' really sounds like.
And can you really go back after years of nodding along.
Sometimes I fail to notice when my laugh sounds hollow, when the sides of my mouth hurt from being pulled to the sides, when my head nods before the words register in my mind.
Then I wonder if i'm alone in this.
Do all of us have these moments when were just trudging through time?
And as I replay the events of the day when I turn down the lights or as I eat my dinner, I see everyone with a tight smile and words that don't sound like what they were meant to be.
Were we both disagreeing when we both agreed to each other?
And what did we achieve? A lost conversation that could have made us see each other better and in turn made our relationship less of the excuse it has become.
What do you need as a performer? An audience.
The scariest part is when you are you're own audience, drinking up the act in front of you even though you know very well no one can pull a rabbit out of thin air, but it's easy to get swept away by the theatrics of it all because to dig deeper would mean to break down the performance you've spent years mastering.
But can you actually stop putting up this facade in this calculated world where everything you say, every little thing you do, everything you don't say or do, is dissected and rolled around and twisted until not much of it remains.
Would I prefer to bare myself to this unflinching place when I know that putting up an act is easier and would save me a lot of hurt and time?
Is there a fine line between performing and fooling yourself?
Is it worth filtering and censoring and not sounding like you ?
And do you know when your first performance was? because that is when you know what 'you' really sounds like.
And can you really go back after years of nodding along.
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