Mood: sick, in a nervous-type-way

Today = Musical tryouts. [screams, runs away, comes back to finish this post]

I'm mainly only nervous because I have no idea whether I'll do well or not. I haven't acted at all since tryouts for the Fall play, Snow Angel, which I did not make. I'm hoping that my singing voice will help me this time. For the musical, they need good acting, yes, but also pretty, strong singing voices. I mean, Dara Flannery may beat me out on every part I've ever wanted with every fiber of my being, but that's on acting talent. My acting may not be as fantastic or dramatic as hers, but I can sing a hell-of-a-lot better than her. And Mr. Hardy knows my voice. He worked with me during my Freshman year, when I performed in Godspell. He knows that I can sing gospel and he knows that Dara and Kaylie can't. There aren't enough black girls trying out to fill the gospel-singing birds' parts. He needs three birds. He's got two gospel singers. That means that I should set my sights for that last bird, if I intend on making the cast this year.

Mood: betrayed

She sits in the corner, singing herself to sleep, wrapped around in promises that no one seems to keep.

My Future

"They lied to us.this was supposed to be the future...
where is my jetpack?
where is my robotic companion?
where is my dinner in pill form?
where is my hydrogen fueled automobile?
where is my nuclear powered levitating house?
where is my cure for this disease?"

Yes, things were supposed to be better. I feel especially betrayed, though, about the disease thing. I shouldn't have to be so anxious all of the time thinking about this operation. The idea of it is looming ahead of me, like a dark and scary range of mountains blocking the veiw of what's to come after it. There should be medication that can do the same job, without cutting my face and neck open. I love Science Fiction because I love to get away from this stupid world of mine, even for a while, even reading about someone else's perfect life. At the same time, though, I hate it, for convincing me that things would be better. Better than this.

Michelle

Humanity vs. Anarchy