It's a play written by one of UCSB professors. Didn't have much expectations, but it was awsome.
Let's admit that we're cowards. Cowards of expressing our emotions. Americans are cowardish of expressing being sad, depressed, and melancholy. There is no word for positive sadness.
We're forced to be happy. Smile and say hi. If anybody asks how you're doing, say you're doing great. The truth is one of ten Americans are on antidepressants.
It's ok to say you're feeling a bit of melancholy. We cannot be happy 24/7, 365 days. If you say so, you probably have a serious psychological problem. Once you admit you feel sometimes melancholy, you're OK with it.
Take things slow and look back. Breathe deeply and look around. You'll find things that you've missed when you're happy. Then people will drawn into your power of being honest.
I admit I'm getting tired of lightness of Californian. Sun is bright, smell of ocean makes you excited... People work out here. They surf, sail, ride... Life goes slow... Girls are pretty, and boys are cute.
But look around one more time. People are desperate to insist that they're laid back. They work out, they enjoy sports, and their life is damn good. They love it here. However, when you're happy, you don't have to say you're happy just like old money don't show off their richness. It's just there without you insisting it.
I see something awkward here. I feel like people here are looking for something occupies their emptiness. They don't know what it is, but it's obvious that they're not laid back in their laid back life. Individual is not connected to their own life and even with each other.
Where are you going with your emptiness? To a club? Come on. There is no club in SB. We're doomed to turn into Almond.
Read a play when it comes out. I know I'll.
