The CreepaBilly Production Studios short story series growing in size every day... Don't forget money for the flowers on the graves.
The theatre was atop Irons Mountain. It was a cold dark wicked place almost always in black and white. I always left me with an eerie feeling. But I always had to go back to that theatre because there was real magic inside and everyone could feel it.
The place use to be a church and we converted it into this beautiful theatre... But... It had this peculiar lingering ... Feeling... Like it was a person or had a soul. The theatre got inside of you. It changed you and it changed people.
The theatre members and volunteers and that oh, so distinguished and snoopy snobby board of directors. Should that be capitalized? This is all about capitalizing baby !!!
Well, this story is about that meds strike through edit that mess not meds...lol... of well to do dreamers artistic good wanna be's.
Hey you,... Let me fukkin' introduce myself... It's "rokkinroll" where I come from to my peeps bitches but itz MOBIUSTRIPZ all CAPS if yo real and n my face but I don't know ya yet! On social media I don't know ya and i m not too tech savvy either... You understand that shit... Right???? Right???
And so a lease in balance weighs,
while former board members play, acts from an improvised play, they started just yesterday.
I quit, fuck you, I quit, documented now on social media, itz live fucking legit. I hope that got your attention, that's why I quit, two artist friends struggle, artistic life begins while another quits. He only quit not to be outdid, my mentor little smarty pants he hit his head. What bickering and bantering back and forth elephant talk and MobiusTripz and space dog and Rocky and James and Bri and salad all distracted not how is my friend he fell and got hurt the other night and no one will answer and think we are in some sort of fight or power struggle. All somewhat flattering and tragic too and this the man I adore who offered me such deeper artistic life... Oh fucking what and fucking why? This art we weave a mess a web then depart we must we leave. Oh yeah but how is he? How is he? Does anyone stop to even think at 69 and what a fall oh how is he?
...and so a lease in balance weighs to be negotiated while the actors play like children. I quit, me too, nanny, nanny, boo boo. More money requested and music not legit, makes more money then anything else in town when well promoted, get use to it. It's not a slap in the face to our beloved theatre or acting as it's own art, it's about changes in culture and cycles once ended that again start. Music is wanted live all over and so are actors again too and so is entertainment and we are on this great cusp where the artist will finally also make a fair and decent living because if demand once again for this craft. Let's together mend this broken marketplace and stop the infighting at once that only exists by social media proliferation and not one bit in reality. Reality... Lets get back to that where sometimes you have to be dramatic to draw attention to quick change and letting a process so evolve... often sacrificing the self. The money shall come, it shall come. Now behave like adults, yes adults... At least for just an hour at the meetings. Bored meetings. I am no longer a Board Member but rather just a bored member at bored meetings... my passion stolen away theatrically, we now all bow. Vote yes for raising those higher so requested entitled fees and with all due respect please do renew the lease.
So how is he? So how is he?
Please oh please, renew the lease,
Wicked games, we weave deceive,
I'm peeved really fucking peeved,
In theatre where is that line between
Fantasy and reality, and how is he? How is he? The fall was real and this can wait?
I would sue the theatre? No concern just hate?
What's the truth and the real concern and who are the actors and what's the mission and where is the theatre and when is intermission? Did you pay attention behind the shadows and your friends his better friends indeed all the lies the weaved, and weaved, and weaved, and weaved.... Echoing fading out....
It's time to get your lawyer on but I already trumped your ass because i got your lawyer before you got him yourself you hanging from a string little bitch !!!
I am an actor and I can weave like a super star to any where I ever need or would want to be, I know you see, the same wicked quick sharp ass photographic shit like me, I controlled you to get to this place now real in destiny. While you plainly look up ahead to see, what fantasy do you think I will have waiting for you, what would you like to upon your departure so leave?
I answered that once so very long ago and when I think someone of my time wants to play Charade's, I will not hesitate to envision many dances across their soon to be resting place, their grave.
Waste not a moment to soon shall be taken.