Racerchic478

Teenage Politics
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2003-04-08 23:31:33 (UTC)

Uta Hagen

Gotta love that Uta. She's one smart cookie. In theatre 2
this week, we're learning her methods of "better acting."
She puts her scenes through a variety of questions, and
answers them in the deepest sense possible. While doing
this, I realized that this was also a great journal topic
to help you best understand my position right now.
*1. Who Am I?
- I am a teenager, torn between so many grips. One part of
me wants to run away from this place and flee to
Whitewright, where I can be with Timmy and I can finally be
there for him and he can love me like he used to.Another
part of me wants to stay here and be with the friends I
have grown to love over the year, and stay in this school I
have built such a reputation for myself in. I am only 16,
and sometimes this decision seems harder than the decisions
most of the adults I know make. On a more physical note, I
am slowly tanning my uncharacteristically pasty skin. I've
never been this white before. I think it's because before
when I wanted to tan, I did. But here I find it hard to
even ask. That's me. A chicken. Scared to ask, for fear of
rejection. Augh. It plagues me. But at the same time, I am
the boldest person I know. Loyalty engulfs my friendships,
and I am most likely to speak up about something that
smells like foulplay. At school, I am the one who's always
being loud, causing the most commotion in class. I'm always
in trouble for talking. But that's me, as I am now. And
that's what I like. I've spent too many years being quiet
and cooperative. It's time to give some teachers some hell.
*2. What time is it?
Spring is looming within the next few days, and although it
has officially begun ( spring equinox ), there are still
wintery days. Like today for instance. To the eyes, a view
of the outside world is trickery. It LOOKS hot, with the
sun gleaming on anything with any reflective ability. The
brightness makes your eyes squint, and everything has a
lush green look to it. But eyes beware. Take a step
outside, and feel the bitter wind that nips at your short
sleeves. Texas weather. It's a tease. The school year is
almost up, and everyone is ready. The seniors are ready to
graduate, or more likely ready for the after graduation
parties. The juniors are tired of being juniors, they are
ready to be the king of the roost. The sophomores
(including me) are tired of being this neutral grade, and
are ready for the power the juniors establish. And the
freshman, they are just happy to have survived the year.
*3. Where Am I?
I have moved from my mother's house in Whitewright, to my
Father's in Burleson. The scenery is scarcely different, as
the traffic is still light, and the trees still abstruct
your view for a long ways, but somehow it's totally
different. Laughter isn't heard here. The comical
environment I am used to is only captured in my frequent
visits to my mom's house. I often wonder why I'm still
here. I miss my family. I miss laughing. I miss coming home
and spouting out black comedy movie lines. I miss the long
talks I'd always have with my mom. And I really miss Timmy.
I wish he was here. No. I wish I was there.Most of the time
I think that I shouldn't have left. But if I hadn't, would
I have found myself so well in that small school? Would
they have had ANYTHING to offer me? I don't think so. I'm
so confused.
*4. What Surrounds Me?
My stepmom is home, and I'm very cautious of her coming
into my room. I don't want her to read this. So every time
I hear a noise remotely close to my room, I pull up an IM
box to cover what I'm writing. I don't even know why. I'm
just being secretive because it's easier than explaining
myself to them. I've invested a lifetime in letting my mom
get to know me. Why do these people think they can just
come in and get to know me after 16 years? Well,
actually..they don't think that. They don't really care.MY
room is disheveled, with clothes on the floor, both clean
and dirty alike. The smell test has proved a quick method
for selection tho. My scrapbooking stuff is spread all over
the floor, because after my wonderful weekend I felt moved
to work on some more pages of the "Timmy and Taylor"
scrapbook. I still haven't unpacked from this weekend, and
it looks like a photo lab has PUKED it's contents into my
room. My photo printer has proved to be the most useful
present I received this year. Eminem's smooth style invades
my room as " lose yourself " plays for about the 100,000th
time on my radio, but I don't care because I love that guy.
He speaks for the people I adore. There's a pruple cup on
my desk that has been here since yesterday, but I refuse to
take it to the kitchen, because I am forced to do dishes
every night as much as I detest them. So this..in it's own
weird way, is my name of bucking the system.Ha. I'm
pathetic.
*6. What Do I Want?
Simple : The most important thing to me is getting Timmy
back. That's what my every move is based on. That's all I
think about. It consumes me. I can't think past it until I
have completed this mission. Which is sad in it's own way,
but it seems to be working.
*7. What's In My Way?
The things that have happened in the past. I've been so
scared to lose him, and in that I have lost him by acting
the way I did. Now it's a cloud over my head. But I'm
working on getting rid of it. Starting with last weekend.
WOW.
And that's all I have. End Scene. Taa-daa.


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