Thanks to the David...I am just now getting around to anything...much less posting in my journal or reading my friends journals.
It’s so lovely being with an actor....
Imagine the booming voice, the smooth depth of a man incensed with passion, calling out:
I am the man who, may be, thou hast heard
Was master of the arms of Heracles,
The son of Pœas, Philoctetes! whom
The Captains twain and the Cephallenite king
Cast out thus shamefully--deserted--sick
Of a consuming wound--pierced through and through
By the destroying viper's venomous fangs;
And in this plight, boy, they exposed me here,
Left me, and went! when from the Chrysean coast
They put in hither with their navy, straight,
Soon as they saw me sleeping on the beach,
Tired with long tossing, in a sheltered cave,
They laughed, they went, they left me! casting me
A few mean rags, a beggar's garniture,
And some poor pittance, too, of nourishment,
Such as, I pray, be theirs!
Now imagine it at 7am...when you just went to bed at 3am...imagine it, not two feet from your head where he decided he would practice before getting in the shower and getting ready to go to class....
I think I liked it better when his life’s ambition was to be a funeral director.