The Act.

The Man and I live in the strangest city.
From where I sit...literally...I am overhearing the faux cheers and applause of a casting session for a
movie that may or may not get scrapped before it even sees the light of day.
An actress, known best for leather unitards and royal diaries sits in the next room. Her hard exterior gives way to the slight cracks that only one can see if they are reeeeally looking...gaping as most do. She is just a little girl; slight in stature at best; vulnerable yet guarded all at the same time.
Sort of like Lady Los Angeles herself.
L.A. often times just seems like one giant costume change.
Fads come and go. People are loved and hated all in the course of one weekend. 
We are transient in every way.
And want to know the worst part of it all?
I find that my demeanor has changed too today. Suddenly, I find it harder to make eye contact. My laughter, slightly more nervous.
Suddenly I care simply because someone...or culture...tells me I should.
Costumes and masks. Smoke and mirrors.
We all act. 
Some of us just get paid for it.

2 comments:

  1. Um, this is really good. I love your inner artist writings ;)

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    1. Hahaha thanks NZ but lets be honest, I've read your entries and sooooooooomebody else here has quite the inner artist ;)

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