I don't know. I'm just scared

we had an instructor in drama school who taught us fight choreography and also was the same guy that ended up giving me some arms training, he was cool, they'd set him on fire for movies. Anyway afterwards he'd give us students notes about what we could work on, and there was one kid who was fucking exceptional at taking very believable punches no matter who was throwing them, but he was never able to hit the floor without quite literally looking like a cartoon character. like there was no sellability in the hitting the floor part. we were supposed to write down our notes for next week and then share them with everyone else to see if we had any tips/information to give out, and the kid hands me his book and I see "how to pass out better guys?" On the bottom of the page. and I read it as "how to pass better as a guy?" and thought the dude was trans for like the entire year. I said bro you're doing fucking swell DW about it to him and he was genuinely touched like "thanks" even though we had no idea what the fuck we were each talking about

Enzo you evil twiiiink

Resisted watching Shogun cause anything with an asston of Japanese actors in is somehow irritating to me, because people start asking me whether I auditioned within my poncey little actors circle. Tbqf no one wants to see a Hokkaido girl with a slight European dog face bluff her way through the old school, frilly language. The reason I'm not a hundred percent castable for samurai shows is the same reason they don't tend to hire northern actors in England for Shakespeare, unless the Londoners have been quickly and subtly shafted somehow. Like Yakuza is fine, I've done Yakuza shit, I speak the language fluent, but put me in the ring with guys with topknots and women permacrouched on tatami and you will see something exquisitely sad and anachronistic. Except I watched it and well. Cosmo jarvis cute. Acting golden. Fucks sakeee

You know you're a good fucking mutual to me when you're reblogging Beatles RPF at 6am in one snakelike stream of undesirable information and the question of unfollowing hasn't even remotely entered my brain. It's not even a thought it's floating in some Hegelian mist of haecceity without synthesis, out there, presumably, but not here with us at all. Only times I can correctly trace where my loyalty lies