What can I say? I know you feel the chemistry between us. It sparks, we can ignite a volcano, I make you wet and the lava burns and brings everything down like a tornado, we cause havoc and the composition is a natural disaster. We are supernatural and what erupts inside of us is super natural. I see how you look at me. Preening yourself when you think I am not looking, I know you do it for me. Lipstick and makeup, what you trying to conceal? I see the truth written in your eyes, transparent as glass that I see through your soul. I know your nature and it yearns for my soul. What can I say? I want you. You the only girl who can pierce through my veil of ignorance. You make me want to be a sinner and soil my innocence. You make me lose my train of thought so I don’t make any sense. You make me sweat, I heat up and I mingle my words. My eyes are not lying to you, I want your perfect body. We don’t need the whole house, we can fuck in the lobby. I can make you feel so good, afterwards you’ll be sobby. Your eyes tell the whole story and it translates throughout your whole body. We can never be platonic because you are after my body. The family thing is a story you can tell yourself, you ain’t my family, speak for yourself. I am ready to transgress, if you follow me in the other room maybe we’ll make a mess but I’ll help liberate your desires and lower the stress. Me and you are a piece of destiny, a moment, fate. The more you resist, the harder it is to escape. Our eyes tell the story, let’s start a state.
God gave me another Amy and this one, well she’s absolutely perfect. Better than my best dream. The last Amy was a projection of my insecurities. She moved on and I felt stuck. She was doing something while my efforts failed to produce something. I knew I was great but I was broke as hell. I felt like a loser. She was a girl I loved but she was not Amy. She felt like Amy because I lost Amy. She was one of the last girls I loved. When I saw her happy with another person, I felt my spirit pierced with a dagger. I had to concede that I was not good enough. I had no real power. I was wrong because I never really made my intentions clear with her. I never told her that I loved her, I was content with just being friends. She deserves better, I was selfish, I am glad she met someone who makes life worthwhile.
God gave me another Amy and this one, well she’s absolutely perfect. She’s beautiful, artistic and intelligent. Symmetrical face, great body, long black hair, brown eyes oh, I think I am starstruck! She’s a superstar, everything I’ve ever wanted. She can sing Amy Winehouse songs and Rap like Nasir Jones. She’s also proficient on the piano, able to recite Mozart’s concerto with her eyes closed. She’s a perfectionist who can communicate her ideas, she executes better than a German. She plays for a living and strives to create in every moment of life. She was a headgirl at school, that’s my third headgirl and I feel she’s the best. I never thought I’d be in love again and yet here we are. Her mind has me whipped. I had never met someone so amazing in my life. She saved my conception of reality. She gave me hope for the future. I had always wished for someone so amazing but it was all in my head until it finally manifested in real life. Yea, she’s real life. I guess that’s the results of following your dreams. If you consistent in following through some of them actually come true. She’s a byproduct of content, I was pushing through with the dream not making much money and I saw her and fell in love with her. I loved her from the first day and I knew that things would be good for the rest of my life. She was a starting point. She represented a new reality, one I wanted to be a part of. A reality I would be a part of if I just followed content and my inherent nature. I am glad I sacrificed all those basic bitches because now I get to have the real thing. Even if she’s not the one, I am now in a paradigm of everything high value. I made myself high value.
God gave me another Amy and this one started everything for me. Things started moving, life fell into place, I started creating with a business mind, started interacting with high caliber individuals, started becoming the person I always knew I was. Of course she might leave like all the other Amy’s in the past and I am good with that. She gave me hope. She gave me reassurance that I was on the right road, she was the proof. She made me fall in love again, I became infatuated again, I started writing about love again, she saved my life. And even if I don’t get another Amy, I’ll be okay, I’m good.
Sticks and stones can break bones but words alone can’t break you. I agree with the lead, that’s a false assertion. Words have the ability to cripple your soul, they matter, it’s how we create our reality. Positive words are better and lighter than the negative ones. Negative words are heavy and weigh you down. I loved the show, it’s powerful, philosophical and sheds a light on the human condition. We are all broken and that’s okay because we can be fixed and made better. Broken things have personality and scars tell a story, that’s how you know you have lived. Kintsugi, a Japanese custom that mounts together broken things with gold to show their character and resilience is central to the play’s message and tone. Broken things can be more valuable than those that don’t have a blemish, that’s the idea of art, renewal and rebirth. You don’t throw away something because it’s broken, you fix it and make it truly yours, you renew it and give it personality. That’s what the lead did when he changed his broken flask into a vase, he took the broken insides of the flask and stuck them outside, the end result is beautiful as the flask is changed into a vase that reflects like a mirror. Of course collecting broken things makes you a hoarder and there’s something psychological about being a hoarder. You can’t let go, you think you can fix, control and restore things back to the way they were or better, you trapped in a loop, you don’t want to grow up. We see this from the lead, he hasn’t been right since his father left, his mother too. He has this yearning to fix it, restore things to how they were because deep down he’s broken. This brokenness manifests as a person being a hoarder of broken things. That’s how artists are born, Kintsugi, and it’s this brokenness that makes them invaluable and beautiful because they capture the world in a way that we can feel. Life is a feeling process and broken things have felt. We are all broken, we think we can fix and control life when in actual fact the Universe is indifferent to us and our whims, but we do it anyways because it’s life and we do have a degree of control, so we create memories, moments, art, because that is what the human condition is all about. It’s easy to throw away things because it rids you off the responsibility but you fail to appreciate the beauty of that thing, everything has soul, beauty and it is in the way that your frame your words that will dictate what you see.
The show touched me, I loved it! I also learned about Japanese philosophy, Kintsugi, will stay with me beyond today, I will take it with me all my life. Amazing performer Cara Roberts is, so childlike, sweet and innocent. The cape, the flying, inquisitiveness, very realistic and believable. Loved the acting, simply put unbelievable! The facial expressions, mannerisms, how she delivered her words, how she made use of the stage, it was a complete performance. She was captivating, she had the crowds attention the whole time, we all cared what she had to say, she commanded the stage, she had real energy, she brought life and meaning to those words, enthusiasm beamed from out of her, she was amazing. A big credit to the writer and director of the show Micheal Taylor-Broderick, perfection is my humble opinion. The lighting was perfect, best suited for an intimate crowd. That was a great show, powerful, that last scene with the robot and the sleeping boy was the best ending ever! Another great one Sam, thank you. Congratulations to the whole team and a deserved standing ovation.
In the realm of celebrity, everything is bigger here, the tabs are bigger, holes deeper and the feeling of imposter syndrome realer. You thought money was going to solve everything only to realize it doesn’t solve anything. You worked your whole life chasing a fleeting experience, numbness and cocaine now your daily experience, cause you are alone despite the millions of followers, money stacked high but you have never felt lower. Operating in the realm of celebrity, I always thought being with the stars will enhance my shine, reality is the rot aches like a tooth cavity. The 15 minutes is actually 5, how’s that for brevity? Everyone wants to be famous, everyone wants to be a celebrity. In the realm of celebrity, the stars are just like me, insecure and sensitive not knowing who to be. Expectations and blurred lines hindering who they should be. I will buy that Sportscar, even though it’s not me. Celebrity, celebrity, I thought with my stock high, I’d defy gravity, yes I am floating in the sky in all levity, but I am also empty lacking capacity. In the realm of celebrity, reality is a hoax enhanced by the lights, the friends are actually enemies who are eager for a fight, awaiting for an opportunity to dim out your sight. Celebrity, celebrity, it’s not how it’s advertised. You a slave to the market and money has you hypnotized. Surrounded by celebrities, I thought the feeling would be different but it’s all the same. They should have all the power but they are toothless and tame. Some are struggling to pay rent, living with friends to hide the shame. Some are broken and beat down, maybe it’s the fame. Celebrity, celebrity, got me feeling like Pinocchio, living in a fabricated world and I just want to be a real boy.
Well, I didn’t expect that, so many twists and turns. I really thought Mr. Vole was innocent, I thought he was set up for sure. He pleaded his case with defiance. There’s no ways he could have murdered Mrs. French in cold blood, she was his friend. So what he inherited all her money and was looking at boats the week before her death. These things happen, besides death comes for all of us. Yes, Mr. Vole is a young handsome man with his whole life ahead, is unemployed and had everything to gain from Mrs. French’s death but it’s lazy to label him a murderer. He could have been framed. I was suspicious of everyone earlier in the play. Myself and the gentleman sitting next to me were not convinced of the charge brought against Mr. Vole and when his devoted wife Romaine, was called up as a witness for the prosecution, the alarm bells rang louder. The beautiful foreign girl lied to the jury and was a poor alibi. Instead of helping her husband, she made things worse! She fabricated details whilst his husband was protesting. I felt sorry for Mr. Vole, he vehemently protested his innocence, he was sweating, he was lively, active, on his feet, letting the jury know that he did not kill Mrs. French. That’s when I knew that he was innocent and that it was his wife Romaine who had murdered Mrs. French, the gentleman next to me concurred. Romaine played by the super talented Sharon Spiegel-Wagner is clearly a femme fatale, she oozes sexuality, is dressed in red and when we are first introduced to her, smoke is released from the stage and she makes her grand entrance, music in the background and she takes her sweet time walking. She’s a siren, a real work of art, it’s easy to see why “Leonard kisses the ground she walks on”. She strikes me as the murderer because of the fact that she’s a foreigner and her dubious character. It’s also revealed that she is not even married to Mr. Vole, she’s actually a Helm, still married to her husband living in Belgium. I disliked Romaine more and more as the play went on, a big cognitive dissonance. Sir. Wilfrid played by Graham Hopkins and his junior counsel John Mayhew played by Craig Jackson work exceedingly hard to prove Mr. Voles innocence. They succeed as the jury deliver their verdict – NOT GUILTY! But there’s a twist, it turns out he was guilty and his wife knew, she protected him and fabricated evidence to get him out of the hook earning charges of perjury in the process. That’s not all, it turns out Mr. Vole has a blonde mistress she was planning to elope with, leaving Romaine behind. In a heated exchanged, Romaine stabs and kills his husband. All this happens while still in court with Sir. Wilfrid and his assistant watching in the distance. So in addition to her perjury charge, Romaine will also be trialed for the murder of her husband Leonard Vole.
Unbelievable show! I didn’t know where to look, what to expect. Shocking! Thriller! Drama! Suspense! Agatha Christie is a master, great show. Respect to Graham Hopkins, a true legend, his acting was a masterclass, how he delivers his words, the accent, his posture, mannerisms and stature, it was his show, everything revolved around him, he killed it! Shout-out Peter Terry who plays Mr. Justice Wainwright and Mike Huff as Mr. Myers.
I thought the show had Dostoevsky’s “Crime and Punishment” influence. It’s centers around the same topics, murder and human nature. It’s clear I don’t have a clear understanding of both, I thought Mr. Vole was innocent despite the overwhelming evidence against him. Dostoevsky’s character Raskolnikov, doesn’t murder to inherit a fortune, he murders in cold blood because he is vile, ugly and because he can. He murders because he is in a position of power over the elderly woman, because he doesn’t see the use of the elderly woman living, because God won’t stop him. Dostoevsky documents Raskolnikov’s psyche, he is in a mess, he is haunted, he can’t sleep, he loses weight, he is sick, he is overwhelmed with guilt – the magistrate in charge of murders and equipped with a shrewd understanding of criminal psychology sees all of this, he torments him with his appearance, questions, he sees right through him. Ultimately Raskolnikov confesses and hands himself over. Leonard Vole didn’t exhibit all of this behavior, could he be a sociopath? Stories like this teach you a lot about human nature, it’s interesting to contrast them. “Witness For The Prosecution” is a thought-provoking show that depicts how absurd the human condition is, Albert Camus would be so proud.
I am not going to act like Sharon Spiegel-Wagner isn’t my Achilles heel, she’s the best and she delivered yet again. If I had my way, I’d see her every day. She’s an incredible, amazing, beautiful, talented woman and the show is exhibit A. She performs at a high level and everyone shines. Graham Hopkins and Craig Jackson are the pulse, they hold the show together, some of the shows best dialogue comes from them, they have amazing chemistry and synergy. Greta, played by Dianne Simpson was one of my favorite characters, she was amazing and funny. Brett Kruger as Leonard Vole is excellent. The show was well-written, the performers were amazing and the direction and lighting perfect. The lighting and smoke was pretty awesome! It’s an experience, I felt like I was in that courtroom. I loved that the set was not fixed, it kept on changing, that was appealing to my eyes and it helped with the mood that the director tried to evoke and convey. Some actors committed to double shifts, playing more than one character, wow, the mastery you have to achieve to do that, unbelievable craftsmanship. Congratulations to Alan Swerdlow and the whole team for a great, great show and a deserved standing ovation!
All my life I’ve been told that I wasn’t going to make it. Like “you just an Alexandra boy. Have you ever seen a successful Alexandra boy?”. Lol, Wow! The negativity, written off and marginalized before I even start. Of course I’ve always shunned off the statements and stayed defiant, choosing to take one step at a time. With humility, my head down I have always risen above the hate and negativity. I am not stupid, I know I am slightly disadvantaged but I am not a victim, I’ve never been one. My gameplan has always been to do more than required and with time my efforts have compounded. Going the extra mile is something that is now automatic and it has made me distinguished. I raise my head and I find myself in different circles. I am the only person who looks Iike I do. It’s crazy, I did it, my head is above the water, I made it. I still meet black people with a house niggas mentality, the Steven’s on “Django Unchained” and they assassinate my character in attempts to get me to react but it’s all so funny to me because by probing they have confirmed I am “Bright boy” the exceptional nigga. I never thought I’d see the day my leather jacket became the scapegoat. They are scared of me, no words can put me down. They can’t control me, they can’t manipulate me, they try to cut me out but it’s a bigger picture and they can’t photoshop me out. The little township boy is in their face and is not going anywhere, instead his accruing power, moving from class to class, creating relationships, dominating the court, I can fit in anywhere, I am a social butterfly, they can’t do anything to me because I am playing the game! Now to diss me is to reflect their hypocrisy and ignorance. The little township boy keeps on rising.
Little township boy, don’t let them tell you, you can’t do it. It’s all in your head, you can accomplish anything you want. Anything you want in the world is yours! You can get it, believe in yourself, stay with the process and care enough. When you rise up, they will try to bring you down. Keep moving.
P.S. It was Reginah who said I would never make it, she cited the fact that I was from Alexandra and wore a leather jacket as the reasons. She did everything to break my spirit but she couldn’t. Cognitive dissonance on her part because she knew I’d already made it but acknowledging it was difficult. No biggie, I appreciate the negative energy to feed on.
antakalipa 