Take your drama and shove it, ok?

Remember Kody, sticks and stones may break your bones, but chains and whips excite you.

Drama is fun! If you're in a class for it. And it's only onstage.
Firsat off, my exe's new girlfriend thinks I'm flirting with him. Then ignores me because someone that wasn't me told her I called her a bitch and was going to punch her. Instead of talking to me about it...she ignores me. What?
And my ex decides to ignore me for...no reason. Yep. No reason. Oh wait, there is one...he's a brat who has ex issues with me and can't get over the fact that I've gotten over him.

And my dance teacher left my class to do Poms Nationals (Good luck RHS!)....and we had about 2 screaming matches in as many days.

Then in Anime Club, our VP decided the day before club to do a party with no warning. And gets bitchy with my girlfriend for playing with me.

So, to all these people...shove it! Jesus christ, get over yourselves!

Musicals

A list of Musicals I want to see, and those I've been in.

Want:
American Idiot
Wicked


In:
RENT
(Might be) Hairspray
Phantom of Op'ry
Mulan

New Play?

I'm going to do it. Going to take the plunge. write the dang play (MUSICAL!) based off Nikki Sixx and the Heroin Diaries Soundtrack. I was going to make them into music videos, but after RENT, I think I could do so much more with a play than with a 4 minute video.

So, here's the list of the songs. Until the new Sixx A.M. Album comes out, they'll stay this way

Xmas in Hell
Van Nuys
Accidents Can Happen
Pray For Me
Pray for Me Acoustic
Intermission
Lies of The Beautiful People
Heart Failure
Courtesy Call
Accidents Can Happen Reprise
Dead Man's Ballet
Girl With Golden Eyes
Permission
Tomorrow
Life is Beautiful
Life After Death

OBVIOUSLY this won't ever be a real play unless somehow Mr. Sixx approves. Which is doubtful. Unless he's like Greenday and actually don't mind.
Hmmm....

Fun with Pip and Facebook

Today, as I crossed the street, I noticed a guy in a reddish rusty truck that looked like a friend of mine, Pip Sampson, who lives in England and is the drummer for Al. B. Damned. The driver made a weird face at me and drove off.
I posted a status and here is the ensuing conversation:

Kody Thomas: Thought i saw Pip Sampson in a truck today. o.O
Pip: I drive a red truck
Pip: It looks like a firetruck
Pip: but it's not
Pip: it's made of cheese
Pip: It's a cheese truck
Pip: I call it Boris
Kody: OH MY GOD IT WAS YOU!!!!
It was a red truck I saw...how did you get to Denver?
Pip: It's a friendly truck
Pip: it flies
Pip: I flew it to Denver
Pip: i'm back in England now
Pip: I had a nice time
Kody: you made a weird face at me and I got worried
Kody: that's good
Pip: Now I'm going to bed because I'm really quite drunk and it's 7.30 AM ///// ARGH!!!
Bree: WOW! Kylie...I fucking love you
(1 person likes this ((pip likes this)))

So pip is crazy. And besides Joe Crow, who isn't in ABD , he is the only one that talks to me. ^^

Without You..

What you don't understand is
I'd catch a grenade for ya
Throw my hand on the blade for ya
I'd jump in front of a train for ya
You know I'd do anything for ya...
I would go through all this pain, take a bullet straight through my brain
Yes, I would die for you baby..
But you won't do the same....
-Bruno Mars, Grenade

But I die...
Without You...
-Mimi, RENT

Why does this hurt so much? Why, when I look at you and her does my heart stop in anguish like you just tore it out of my chest. And I'm sick of it.
It wasn't enough to dump me for her, an online girl. No, you had to talk about her, knowing how much it hurt me.
You now have to shove this new girl in my face. You kiss her, cuddle her next to me. You know it hurts me, but that's what you enjoy, am I right? You love my tears, you love how I crumple into a shell of my self before your eyes.
I saw you, after rehearsal. You didn't know, but I cried today. I sobbed during rehearsal. Because of Without You. I couldn't focus or work during my big performance...my last practice before it, because of you kissing her.
You didn't know...or did you?
You looked back at me, knowing I was watching, and you kissed her. 3 times you did this.
You heard my sobs, how could you not? How couldn't you hear my tearful call to my grandmother, practically wailing in my utter anguish.
You know what you do. If it was a play, I'd give you a standing ovation. If this was a movie, I'd watch it over and over. But it's not, it's my life and I can only fall to the floor and whimper as you and her laugh.

Leave me alone. Stop flirting with me when she's not there. Enough of your abuse...I can't take it...

This once red heart I drained for you
Is empty, cold and black!
-Al. B. Damned, Hate To Love You

If my body was on fire
You'd watch me burn down in flames
You said you loved me, you're a liar cause you
never ever did baby...
-Bruno Mars, Grenade

Today for you!

So, a basic update of recent events.
I got chorus in the play RENT, a huge Broadway hit musical. I got picked, which is exciting mainly because 3/4ths of people got cut. So at least I got a part!
I sob everytime I even listen to Without You or I'll Cover You (reprise) It's so emotional...

I got the secxond main role in my theatre classes The Best Christmas Pageant Ever. Meaning I got mother. Yes, a mother. I'll let you absorb that.

I've been watching Food Network a lot. Food...mmm....

Everything Can Burn (Inspired by Al B Damned)

*The premise of this story is largely based off of the song Everything Can Burn by Al B Damned. You can find lyrics at AlBDamned.com


Grey and Black. Grey and black.
Grey sky, black house. Grey ash, black skeletal frame.
Grey and black.
I stare at the charred skeleton of my old house. So dark. It used to be this beautiful two story house, out in the country, surrounded by woods.
The blaze is over. Now that house is just rubble and ash.
I can imagine how it is inside...but I need to see. I need to somehow justify these actions. Clenching my fist around the pack of patches, I make my numb way forward.
The door falls open at my touch, black as my shoulder length hair. That's something all of us shared...black hair.
The floorboards groan under my weight- my underfed frame seemingly too much- punctuated with the crunch of former windowpane shards under my feet. I look up. The roof is gone. Just beams, cracked and charred. That's interesting...
I continue my morbid journey, to my sisters room. The dollhouse kind of survived. I mean, it's still there, just a much darker version. The teddy bear is a pile of ash and formerly shiny black buttons. A pair, of course, for the eyes.
So I...leave. I don't need to stare any longer at the now anorexic looking bed frame. Don't need to touch the melted plastic fibers of the synthetic carpet.
Continue the journey. Parents room next. I push open the door, which falls open at my touch, just like the front door. This door is more grey though. Maybe 'cause I started everything here.
The smokey haze drifts towards me. I wave it away, looking for an image I can engrave into my mind. Look towards the dresser. Broken perfume bottles, shards of the elaborate gilt-framed mirror. Bed's next. A glint of sparkling diamond, a flash of platinum bands. The four poster is skeletal looking as well.
No need to dwell, this is enough. My actions did this. My hand and a pack of cheap matches.
But is it justified?
I don't look at my room, I already know it's gone, ruined. But...
I look up the staircase. It isn't so bad there, the ebony banister, covered in a polished veneer, protected parts of the wall. And there's a picture of us. I come closer. Yeah, a portrait. Like the ones you get from Sears, staged with a blue background. Two parents, looking like a 50's era mom-and-pop. A little girl in a ruffled dress like a doll, 7, 8, I don't remember how old she was. Ever so cute, little pigtails, a missing front tooth; you can see it in her huge grin. And reluctantly, my eyes stray to the son. Me. 18. A freak in this normalcy of the portrait. Shoulder length black hair, pale, wearing a Misfits shirt.
The rest of them are looking at a fixed spot up and away from the camera. The son- me- looks directly at it. Challenging it, stubbornly engaging the lens in a staring contest I'm sure to win. No smile on my face either. A straight, grim line.
And how long ago was it taken before they threw me out? Turned my sister, my light, my joy, my very reason for life, against me? How long before they threw me into a wall, shoved me down the stairs, all while beating me with a belt? To convert me to Christianity, of course. How long befiore they watched me lying crumpled and broken at the foot of the stairs, shuddering and fighting back tears...and handed my sister the belt?
How long?
I can't bear to look anymore. She just looked at me, said 'You're bad,' and hit me in the face...
Am I bad?
I know this answer. Stumbling down the stairs, I hold my face, covering my eyes. Need to get outside...away from my light and joy...and my parents...
I burst out into the light, turning towards the hulking frame. "You betrayed me!" I scream. "I couldn't EVER be what you wanted, why!?" Fall to my knees, beating the dead shriveled grass. "You rejected me! I was your son!" I scream wordlessly after this defiant declaration, throwing handfuls of dirt at the house I destroyed. Me. I caused this...cremation.
I throw another handful. "But everything can burn!" I wail. "Everything can burn!"
The tears inch down my face, stinging my reddened eyes. Ash settles on me.
"You're bad."
I stand, swallowing back my wail of frustration. Swallowing back my tears, my pain. Turn back towards the trees. A stump, a hanging rope fashioned into a noose. Prepared for this moment, the moment I realize she was right.
I stumble towards ti, my feet catching and dragging on the uneven ground.
Onto the stump. "Everything can burn." I say, quietly, slipping the noose around my neck and tightening it. "Everything can burn..." I whisper...
And kick the stump away.