Comments Posted By Park

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Threatening glare across the room. She looks like a silly cat meme with the bolded “SOON” in all caps looms over her head. But I don’t give a flying fuck, I’m done with my work so I’m going to keep reading “Gone Girl” on the company dollar.

» Posted By Park On 07.23.2015 @ 12:34 am


punched in the face. that’s what he GOT. PUNCHED IN THE FACE. I could hardly believe my own strength when I watched his face fly sideways. When my hand fell back down to my side the blood quickly started flush out the pain I had caused myself.

» Posted By Park On 08.12.2013 @ 9:09 pm


The rest is still unwritten. Thank you, Natasha Bettingfield (sp? whatever). Unwritten basically describes any writing right now because I’m watching a Grey’s Anatomy marathon.

» Posted By Park On 07.21.2013 @ 6:06 pm


Wistful. The sound of it makes me angry. Wist-ful. The “wist” part… it just sounds so… whispy and faint. I think the word “wistful” is one of the most frustrating words. ‘Wist” is flimsy and not ‘ful’…. but to be ‘ful’ of the ‘wist’ can be incredibly frustrating… i guess it makes sense. what the hell am I even writing about now.

» Posted By Park On 07.07.2013 @ 7:48 pm

Fuck wistful. Sick of my heart leaping out of my chest and trying to run ahead of me. It’s skipping everything in my life happening right now. There is such a thing as too much wishing. Too much wishing can distract from now. Sometimes you have to tell your heart to slow a beat or two so you can take a second to see where you are and love that, too. I’m sick of wistful. That stupid word makes me think of the proper ladies wearing obnoxiously heavy summer dresses while fanning themselves in the sun and sipping cold lemonade sighing, “my oh my…” or whatever proper ladies who do these things actually say. Fuck wistful.

» Posted By Park On 07.07.2013 @ 11:49 am


Vines, as she calls them. They’re her favorite candy. Her tiny hands playfully grab at the tub of licorice and when I hand her one piece she chews the sweet candy with a smile on her face.

» Posted By Park On 04.05.2013 @ 6:43 pm


Muddy hands pressed themselves into the clean, white wall and dragged downwards. The pressure leaving distinctive fingerpaths and an angry mark on the once seemingly perfect and hated void.

» Posted By Park On 04.03.2013 @ 10:20 am


He lies back in his directors chair, the old wood creaks as he sinks into his comfort zone and the canvas backing. Almost everyone else has gone home but he just wanted some time to stare at the set as a whole.

» Posted By Park On 03.12.2013 @ 6:15 pm


Withered. This was the word that came to mind when she looked in the mirror for the first time in two years. The last time she saw her own reflection she cried and broke every reflective glass at her eye level. Now at a second glance she notices delicate skin around her own fiery blue eyes, the blood beneath her skin pumping fresh color to her cheeks and her lips smiled like thirty years never passed.

» Posted By Park On 03.10.2013 @ 10:42 pm

“Withered and brittle.” She used these words to describe the trees around here in the dead of winter. There wasn’t any snow but if you looked outside from your living room window, warmed by a fire, you can see how cold it is by looking at the trees.

» Posted By Park On 03.10.2013 @ 10:34 pm


It’s scary terrain. I watch fellow actors cry on stage and I still wonder how they can do that… I’ve managed it every once in-a-while but I didn’t think of my dead grandmother or my dead dog to get there. It’s a scary ground to find a path… a “technique” to put yourself in a place of devastating tears. But I just watched this beautiful, young 15 year-old-boy tell an amazing story about his family; he talked about a car ride he took with his two mothers, he thought they were going to tell them their decision to get a divorce until one of his mothers said it was to drive in their family car for the remaining 15 miles before it had reached 1000. Together. He told it beautifully and I cried from happiness. Which made me realize something about crying on stage… this will sound strange. When I’m sad, I don’t cry. I don’t think of sad things and cry about them. But I just returned from the memorial of a high school classmate and I cried because I was scared. Of course it was sad and I felt so much for his family. But he was healthy, strong and happy and one night he went to sleep and simply never woke up. It scared me and I hadn’t cried so hard in a long time out of fear. I don’t cry when I’m sad, sad isn’t enough to break me down and make me cry. Stronger feelings such as fear or joy take me to a much more vulnerable place. I think I cry to flood my feelings out of my system to bring me back to earth for a fresh start. I know I’m well over a minute now but it only takes only one moment for a thought to appear…

» Posted By Park On 03.09.2013 @ 5:59 pm


Returned to me. A golden locket and the breeze began to roll faster amongst the trees when it was held in my hands after a long time with no home.

» Posted By Park On 03.07.2013 @ 8:57 pm


Smoke signals are seen, written by a stranded girl on the beach pumping palm leaves over the flame. He could hardly believe what he was seeing, how long she could have she been waiting there with fire and leaves.

» Posted By Park On 03.06.2013 @ 7:22 pm


flames try to engulf her but she screams and kicks the ground to find the heart of the fire an snuff it out with her boot. she won’t let it take over or burn her but meanwhile she’ll kill and scream until the pain is gone.

» Posted By Park On 03.05.2013 @ 4:52 pm


lamb. I didn’t really care what today’s word was. But it’s relevant. I can’t sleep and I haven’t slept well lately. My dreams are so vivid and frightening, my brain has had a lot to process over the last few days and all I want is for someone to pet my head until I fall asleep. I just want someone there to take care of me for one night. I’m usually able to suck it up stand on my own but it’s the rare moments like this that make me hate being alone. I want to be five years old again and have expendable and excusable moments to cry to my parents and ask my mom to pet my head with a cool cloth and sing me to sleep. Tonight is just going to have to be one more night of sucking it up and dealing on my own.

» Posted By Park On 03.04.2013 @ 10:35 pm


bleeding all over the floor. I hope it’s from my stomach, I have bleeding to spare there. I could do with less there. What a shallow thing to think at a time like this? I’m bleeding and I’m conditioned to make it an optimistic moment for my weight loss goals. I seriously need a priority check.

» Posted By Park On 02.26.2013 @ 6:07 pm


Flat as a skunk on a highway. Flat as soda. Flat like flatbread. Flat like boring. Flat like a plateau. Flat like a drunk singer. Flat like

» Posted By Park On 02.13.2013 @ 9:03 pm


collapsing to the floor, worn and out of breath, hoping one moment of lying still will restore her enough to keep going but she can feel her consciousness slipping through her fingers. The small amount of energy she had left is beginning to seep into the dirt beneath to sink her in. She screams to herself in her head “get UP GET UP GET UP NOW” but out loud the words struggle out loud as a whisper and are whisked away by the wind. The voice in her head shouts a resounding “NO. NOT AGAIN. RUN.” and her eyes snap open, she forces the air out of her to allow new breath to fill her alive and she lifts her arm to place her hand next to her face on the ground and begins to push herself back up to her feet.

» Posted By Park On 02.02.2013 @ 10:43 am


Lights go down. The ocean looms out of the dim and almost feel the waves as they crash down over us. The title rises from the sea.

» Posted By Park On 01.31.2013 @ 9:00 pm


The swelling waves beckoned her in but she also sensed their underlying threat.

» Posted By Park On 01.30.2013 @ 10:26 pm


Baby baby baby. I can’t remember what movie that’s from but there you go. I’m SO frustrated today I don’t want to handle it. I suppose the only up-side to it all is that I DON’T have a baby to contend with. Silver linings, right?

» Posted By Park On 01.29.2013 @ 10:04 pm


A visitor at the back door. The wind, maybe? Not a friendly one. Scout curiously peeks her head around the corner, whiskers leading the way and tail swishing with anticipation. No one ever comes in through there.

» Posted By Park On 01.28.2013 @ 4:21 pm


Speak. ::silence:: She asks again, “Speak.” No answer. “SPEAK! I SWEAR TO GOD!” Still no answer, suddenly at her own demand her brain is backed up in word traffic because she couldn’t decide which one to drive through. Isn’t it crazy that our brains can work so smoothly in daily conversation but the second the stakes are raised hundreds of words rush to the front of your brain because you thought of all of them at once? How to unclog the traffic. How to let the words just flooow. That’s the challenge with words.

» Posted By Park On 01.27.2013 @ 8:25 am


My brain just froze because I was thinking how many responsibilities I’ve had. Not only lately or the responsibilities I’ve taken when I haven’t needed to but also responsibilities that I’ve begun to take on as an adult. Not just money, or keeping my apartment clean or taking care of my cat but I mean of myself. Personally. Not just keeping healthy and hygienic but taking responsibility for my actions, taking charge of my life, taking responsibility for my happiness.

» Posted By Park On 01.25.2013 @ 10:56 am


Musicaaaaaaaals! In the wise words of NPH “they’re not just for gays anymore” yet I’m not sure who’s wise to that. I love musicals. I don’t think I’ll ever be cast in one again but musicals kindled my love for music and singing. People are always looking for songs that will move them and have power and real emotion yet people seem to “write off” musical theatre. I find that ironic.

» Posted By Park On 01.23.2013 @ 9:36 pm


Real. It’s what I’m trying to be when I’m on stage but it is so hard. I can’t stop now but it makes me wonder why I wanted to be an actress in the first place… to let my feelings be real. That it’s okay to let them be and for anyone else’s to be.

» Posted By Park On 01.22.2013 @ 9:20 pm


She walks down to the lake, her mind struggling to find peace. She’s thinking about all the things he said to her, how he hated her, how he wished that she was dead. The misty water looked back at her, mocking her and laughing at her.

» Posted By Park On 08.18.2012 @ 11:06 am


ohhhhh. too big to chew… i am so grateful to be in it right now. I am the luckiest person alive… my new life? i’m gushing because I am so excited to be alive, i feel like my existence matters.

» Posted By Park On 09.07.2011 @ 9:59 pm


ants marching by dave matthews used to be one of my favorite songs, actually… thank you, oneword for rekindling my long-lost song-love :)

» Posted By Park On 09.05.2011 @ 9:00 pm


everywhere makes me sneeze and makes me wheeze but most importantly helps me enjoy my morning eggs much more than I usually would.

» Posted By Park On 09.03.2011 @ 8:06 pm

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