Scarred Nobody

Jean and Brando

posted July 1, 2010 on https://www.deviantart.com/brahitsemily/art/Jean-and-Brando-169703808

“When I showed [Stephen Sondheim] the finished film, he said, ‘You treated me gently and royally, for which I’m grateful,’” says [Lin-Manuel Miranda]. “And then he wrote me and said, 'But the last phone message to Jon, the language feels a little trite. I don’t feel like I would ever really say that. Can I rewrite it?’ I was like, 'Gosh, a rewrite from Stephen Sondheim — do I accept this?’”

There was only one problem — [Bradley Whitford] had already wrapped his work on the project and was unavailable to re-record it. Sondheim offered to record the new version for Miranda, and it’s his voice that audiences can hear in the final cut.

Chopin - Ballade No. 1 in G minor Op. 23

Arima Kousei & Kaori Miyazono

First posted on September 26, 2014 on https://facenodefeat.wordpress.com/2014/09/26/living-post-transplant/

You know what’s just a tad ironic? The closer I get to my transplant anniversary, the more I think about dying. Too much for someone who, for all intents and purposes, is in relatively good health. I mean I have the emphysemic lungs of an 85 year old who has been smoking three packs of cigarettes a day since age 13 but we all have our quirks. Mine, a charming smoker’s cough which is kind of punk rock. I should buy a leather jacket. But anyway… death. I’m at my eighth year as a transplant patient. Closer to that ten year mark where the life expectancy rates drop it like it’s hot. Just to put it into perspective– things that have a longer life expectancy than that of a transplanted heart: an oven, a refrigerator, a dryer, usually a dog if you good take care of it, a box of twinkies, and a pretty stable celebrity marriage.

Taken from https://talesofthegrimm.wordpress.com/2020/04/26/intro-to-my-intro/

I’ve spent far too long trying to find the right way to start chronicling my story, picking through the dusty overpacked bins in my brain, thinking that getting it down perfectly is paramount. I always feel there’s a huge mass of words, phrases, snippets of stories, resting on my chest and the thought of unraveling them into the relevant quickly brings on this itchy skin crawling anxiety. It’s always been one of my biggest problems; like I can begin my day with all the best intentions, finally being brave and cracking open the spine on a new journal. But when 10pm rolls around and I take inventory of how I spent my time, the biggest achievement is usually how I caught up on reality television.

So what’s changed for me? Well we’re barely four months into 2020 and I can say with absolute certainty it’s been a complete hellish nightmare. Dante’s Inferno style, I feel like I’m being guided through the Nine circles of Hell. I don’t have to tell you that the world is currently experiencing a pretty severe pandemic, I hope if you’re reading this you’ve already seen the news, if not I’m sorry it’s me breaking it to you. Wash your hands! Honestly though, the pandemic has really been the nice juicy cherry on top of my garbage sundae intro to 2020. I lost two very good friends within a month of each other. Women who both managed to influence my spirit in the relative short amount of time knowing them. In the pit of my stomach sits this heavy stone of grief, still, when I think of everything they inadvertently taught me. Or just the total love they put out into the world.