>sitting by the judas mantel, underneath, where i can’t tell; found the places i’m destroying, only hoped you’d be there still
>in rehearsals for The Spadina Monologues, building a scene like a tapestry, discovering i’m not as good an actress as i used to be.
not like riding a bike, as it were.
in theatre school, was constantly told i played attitude instead of emotion. falling back on old crutches. it’s easier to put up a front than to be vulnerable. working hard at breaking down the fail-safe.
coughing up phlegm translates into a sexy stage voice.
a week before heading off to europe this past summer, i spent an evening at the hospital. vomiting, purging, blacking out, delusional, cold sweats.
now, a week before flying to london, i’m sucking back the bradosol like a blood-tick.