There Are No Words To Express My Rage

And there aren’t. No string of expletives will ever be able to keep me in control. No amount of screams and killings and sex and drugs and rock and roll will ever get me to calm down.

In short: I am thoroughly….the Henry David kind…..pissed.

First off: The Good News?

I’m going to the Irene Ryan competitions probably as Rob’s partner. That’s great…whoop-dee-fucking doo. Except I should be going as the lead, not the fucking partner. My little brother got nominated for one, and I’m sorry Greg, but you play every role the same. Mom and Dad said you did great and I’m sure you sang and danced well, and I’m not really even comparing us. What I am saying is freshmen aren’t and shouldn’t go, because half the time, they get in their first role and we find out that three roles later, they’ve played every one the same.

Rob is great, I love him to death and I’m glad he got nominated for one of the two that we get. I was positive that the judge would nominate him, since she was a stupid whore. Why was she? Because she expected Scapino! which is a comic farce from the commedia del’arte aka the inventor of slapstick and cheap comedy to be a play of realism. Her critique was “Why were the costumes and characters so flamboyant? Why was their odd music and lavish scenes that detracted from the plot?” BECAUSE THERE WAS BARELY ANY PLOT YOU MORON! IT’S ALL ABOUT THE SLAPSTICK! GOD! Well, that’s what you get for getting a judge from Viterbo college.

As for Mike, the other guy who got the role, he’s nice and all, but he sucks. First of all, he stole most of the show, which would be fine if it wasn’t for the fact that it was solely because he’s the new prodigy child of the theatre department. I won’t hold back here. He got a new freshmen scholarship for theatre and now everyone wants him in their production, despite the fact that he cannot sing, he cannot dance, and he acts like himself in every role. Of course the role he played first was Ottavio, who could believably be played as a vacant, flamboyant gay! Of course, it did throw off half the audience, but what the hell. And he’s a freshmen, but the director loves him because he symbolizes everything that a star represents: vain, self-centered acting with the attention always having to be focused on them, whiny bitchiness whenever anyone screws up despite the fact that he can’t get a line right, and the attitude of a drama queen. GAH!

Thirdly, everyone told me I was going to get nominated. THere was a consensus amongst the cast and audience and even the other theatre teachers that I was going. They were laying money on it. Of course, the director is an absolute idiot and didn’t nominate me. Do you know what? FUCK THE WORLD! GOD DAMN IT ALL! If there REALLY is a God, then what the fuck are you doing to me? Is this it? Torture? Enduring little fucks who have no skill and no drive and who act not because they’re good but because they’re worse at everything else?

Second Off: Bleh

Greg is nominated for American Idol. How do I feel about this? Excited for Greg, I think he’s a genius in guitar and everything. I’ll be the first to admit that I hate his voice, but that’s the way it goes…..everybody else hates mine….everybody that counts that is.

Greg and other actors can sell themselves to the few that have a sway, I sell myself to the audience….funny how little the audience matters in the advancement of one’s self at this stage of the game.

Thirdly: Back to One

GAH! And I just got the lead in Reader’s theatre because they told me I’m a great actor and they’re sure I can carry off this role! What the hell?

I’m lost as to what to say. Life just keeps kicking me in the balls and I just can’t get up long enough to stand on my feet. The Irene Ryan’s are a competition that can not only pay for my full college tuition but also have put me in contention for a great acting position over the summer! And once again I’m shafted by some dumb fuck director who favors the ‘prodigy.’ The world isn’t fair….and when I die…that will be my epitaph.

I’ve got to go now…I have like 200 pages of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein to read.