I think that’s it….there they are, on the other end of the hall. Curtains up. Lights on. And…all’s black. Taste of blood in my mouth. Did I just faint?
i hate audiences they’re always watching and laughing and never just there quiet. even if they are quiet you can still sense them and rarely i perform better with an audience. they make me freeze up and i could just die. i prefer to be alone because there are no audiences but i do enjoy typing the word; it’s interesting to type. hehehe audience audience audience.
She moved her thighs, swishing them between her center, popping and pulsating them as they taughtly pulled against her tight little jeans. She put that extra step there, the last one, just to make me pine. No, it wasn’t me, it was for everyone else, she wanted me to know their eyes were on her.
I always liked the audience when they were onstage. There was something about the energy that they gave off as I performed. As we performed. It was thrilling and wonderful and exhilarating and it made me feel alive even though I was being anyone but myself. Because the audience does matter. No matter what the drama teachers say. You feed off of each other and fall in love with each other. No matter what happens, they’re there to critique or love you.
there was a show. it was the best show in town. but there was a girl in the audience who didn’t know how she felt about the show. she was reluctant to go, but sitting in the crowd looking at the actors, she saw the main character. he seemed to be looking at her and before she knew it she was imagining the two of them, their future together.
society and our peers are our audience. Everyday we feel like we are on the stage so we put the best production on for our audience. Our audience doesn’t notice when we do right, only when we do wrong.
I love being in front of a large audience. My face should be seen and not heard. I never said I was comfortable speaking in a large group. I’m scared something ignorant might come out and i’ll be looked at like a fool.
That’s the worst thing one can be: an audience. Always watching never doing. That is humanities greatest fault and saddest attribute, that we are always an audience…
They’re looking at me. Judging. The world is my audience, and I have to please it. Conform to all the stereotypes. Become who they want me to be. If you refuse, you become one of them. An outcast. No one wants to be that.
Maybe she liked the stage because it was the only place the hot lights wouldn’t let her see that she was being watched she set that fourth wall up and never let it fall. All her cares went away and for that one hot second she was loved by herself, for herself and that is all anyone ever needs.
my audience is staring up at me. I sweat, and glance around nervously. Try to imagine everyone in their underpants. Of course, that never works. I gulp, take a swallow of water, and begin.
the audience sits and listens. waiting for the music to explode and the dancing to ensue. as soon as it does an electricity roars through them and becomes an entity all its own.
Is life a performance? Are we indeed actors on a stage? What difference does it make if everyone or no one is watching? Should I play it big for the balcony?
people sitting being told what to think and how to act. What to buy, where to buy it, what to do to get it, to keep up with all the “things” that everyone else has. Materialists.
An audience is a very fickle thing. You must pay attention to the mood of the audience otherwise you might as well be talking to a brick wall. A good speaker will know what the mood of the room is and speak to that mood in order to carry their message as clearly as possible.
An audience to your pain, are the people around us. They see us struggle, they see us pass trough things, but do they do anything? No. They don’t. They are our audience, of our life and our everything.
The audience looked at her and she could feel their eyes picking her apart
She tried to hide behind an invisible wall but her voice quivered as she spoke
They could see that she feared them
They saw she didn’t have the confidence she portrayed herself to have
The audience stared me down, with what felt like cold, heartless glares. That was the stage fright going to work on my mind. They were just expectant, expectant of something great. A loud, booming beautiful voice. My voice is different than these other girls though; deep, soulful, full of meaning. Now, when I say “deep”, no I do not mean baritone section deep. I mean second alto deep. I mean I have a fairly wide range, which extends mostly towards the deeper notes. The music starts and I wait for my cue, and the only thing I can do now, whether I’m ready or not, is sing.
As a child I was always nervous to speak or act in front of an audience. But I just took the chance. I started with a choir. In a choir you sing in front of an audience, but you are just one face in the singing crowd.
They make me nervous. But at the same time I love them.
You know who’s annoying? That girl who thinks that people are watching her all the time. The one who is constantly hyper-aware of her perfect makeup. Or that guy who does the same thing. I mean, come on, nobody’s around. Feel free to lose your “swagger walk” any time you’d like to.
the audience was terrifying. they judged, they sat there & judged. they took no part in the creation but witnessed it & thought of it whatever they pleased. they took every word & diminished it in their heads. they took every sound & turned it unpleasant. they took every song & made it noise. the audience was harsh, the audience was cruel, the audience was mankind.
I don’t know who my audience was, nor did I care. I simply go out every day, even all the days before those days, and I am myself. I didn’t ask for an audience, but I realize that I have one despite my desire to acknowledge that I DO have one every single day. There are always people watching. I suppose that’s why I try to be the best me that I can be.
the audience applauded loudly, creating a sonic boom. the whole theatre burst into flames from the explosion. moral of the story: don’t clap for shitty performances, or you’ll die a terrible and horrific death.
Audience, that’s what you have, all day, everyday. You walk down a street and already many people have had a flash-thought about you. Weather it be how you look or if your face just flashed in their mind. There’s no such thing as privacy as even if you’re alone someone is your audience and will have thought of you.
Hello again. I’m talking about audience, even though I dont have one. This is evidenced by the fact that i am clearly typing into the void of the internet. Will anyone read this? who knows. Not me. I dont think i’d like an audience at this time, however, as its late at night and i’m sleeepy and probably quite dull.
there is always, always an audience. people watching, people judging. PEOPLE TO PLEASE.
need we please them? need we appease them?
can we ever escape the consistency of them?
who is your audience?
when I was eight I was a flying monkey in the wizard of oz. We were all girls with high pitched voices and we waltzed through the audience singing “yo eee o” as loud as our prepubescent female voices could muster. From there on out I knew I wanted to be an actress.
in the large thearter the audience is waiting anticipating the start of the show. The audience is the measurment of whether the show is good or bad. they are going to experience the maddness, the fun, the love, the many emotions of the characters in the play.
I love an audience. It makes me happy if I make them laugh. When they laugh I feel like I’ve made a connection. There’s something about making others happy with laughter even if it’s for just a few seconds. I wish I had the confidence to be an entertainer.
Why can I never perform in front of an audience without getting unbearably nervous? But it’s only when I’m alone. Chorus concert? No problem. Band concert? No problem. Piano recital? No way. It’s just so nerve wracking, my hands literally shake before I go up on stage. Neither of my parents get it, and maybe they never will…it’s just too much stress, everyone focused on me. Does anyone feel that way too?
The audience rose to their feet. The childrens play was wonderful. The Christmas story went on with out a hitch. Mrs. Leri was very relieved to see that her twins, Bobby and Bo didn’t fight or miss one line. After all they had practiced every night for a month, seemed like a year betwe
playing to the audience is something I’m not well versed at. I used to be fearful of it, but have outgrown that. I have moved instead, into avoidance. Not out of fear, but out of a lack of confidence in myself. Out of thinking too much what people think. How do I overcome that?
People sitting in a crowded theater listening to someone else blab on about their many attributes and their unimportant life style, hilarity, laughing and clapping at other’s misfortunes, a bandwagon, joining together simultaneously in the fact that we have joined together on this day and have something in common in that this room is our temporary living space and we are now a family.
An audience is a thing that strikes fear in my heart. Giving speeches, performing, just the thought of having eyes transfixed on me and me alone is certainly something to be nervous about. I hate audiences.
a light in the middle (center spread
all out
like a flicker
there and then not.
all eyes and exhalations so many
flickers
pupils wide
then die.
I think that’s it….there they are, on the other end of the hall. Curtains up. Lights on. And…all’s black. Taste of blood in my mouth. Did I just faint?
There they were!
All of ’em.
Waiting for their goddamn show.
Well, I’ll give ’em a show this time. They won’t even know what hit ’em.
My beautiful assistant won’t look so beautiful much longer… heh heh…
Oh wait, shit… this is the FAKE saw! Where’s the real one?
Oh well.
i hate audiences they’re always watching and laughing and never just there quiet. even if they are quiet you can still sense them and rarely i perform better with an audience. they make me freeze up and i could just die. i prefer to be alone because there are no audiences but i do enjoy typing the word; it’s interesting to type. hehehe audience audience audience.
She moved her thighs, swishing them between her center, popping and pulsating them as they taughtly pulled against her tight little jeans. She put that extra step there, the last one, just to make me pine. No, it wasn’t me, it was for everyone else, she wanted me to know their eyes were on her.
I always liked the audience when they were onstage. There was something about the energy that they gave off as I performed. As we performed. It was thrilling and wonderful and exhilarating and it made me feel alive even though I was being anyone but myself. Because the audience does matter. No matter what the drama teachers say. You feed off of each other and fall in love with each other. No matter what happens, they’re there to critique or love you.
there was a show. it was the best show in town. but there was a girl in the audience who didn’t know how she felt about the show. she was reluctant to go, but sitting in the crowd looking at the actors, she saw the main character. he seemed to be looking at her and before she knew it she was imagining the two of them, their future together.
society and our peers are our audience. Everyday we feel like we are on the stage so we put the best production on for our audience. Our audience doesn’t notice when we do right, only when we do wrong.
I love being in front of a large audience. My face should be seen and not heard. I never said I was comfortable speaking in a large group. I’m scared something ignorant might come out and i’ll be looked at like a fool.
That’s the worst thing one can be: an audience. Always watching never doing. That is humanities greatest fault and saddest attribute, that we are always an audience…
They’re looking at me. Judging. The world is my audience, and I have to please it. Conform to all the stereotypes. Become who they want me to be. If you refuse, you become one of them. An outcast. No one wants to be that.
Maybe she liked the stage because it was the only place the hot lights wouldn’t let her see that she was being watched she set that fourth wall up and never let it fall. All her cares went away and for that one hot second she was loved by herself, for herself and that is all anyone ever needs.
my audience is staring up at me. I sweat, and glance around nervously. Try to imagine everyone in their underpants. Of course, that never works. I gulp, take a swallow of water, and begin.
the audience sits and listens. waiting for the music to explode and the dancing to ensue. as soon as it does an electricity roars through them and becomes an entity all its own.
Playing to the Audience
Is life a performance? Are we indeed actors on a stage? What difference does it make if everyone or no one is watching? Should I play it big for the balcony?
The audience was thrilled by the voice of the baritone singing songs from 1776. His quality was better then average and his appearance was handsome.
people sitting being told what to think and how to act. What to buy, where to buy it, what to do to get it, to keep up with all the “things” that everyone else has. Materialists.
An audience is a very fickle thing. You must pay attention to the mood of the audience otherwise you might as well be talking to a brick wall. A good speaker will know what the mood of the room is and speak to that mood in order to carry their message as clearly as possible.
An audience to your pain, are the people around us. They see us struggle, they see us pass trough things, but do they do anything? No. They don’t. They are our audience, of our life and our everything.
The audience looked at her and she could feel their eyes picking her apart
She tried to hide behind an invisible wall but her voice quivered as she spoke
They could see that she feared them
They saw she didn’t have the confidence she portrayed herself to have
the audience cheers, madly, as the magician stepped off the stage to perform his final trick – a suicide by being beaten to death by pigeons.
The audience stared me down, with what felt like cold, heartless glares. That was the stage fright going to work on my mind. They were just expectant, expectant of something great. A loud, booming beautiful voice. My voice is different than these other girls though; deep, soulful, full of meaning. Now, when I say “deep”, no I do not mean baritone section deep. I mean second alto deep. I mean I have a fairly wide range, which extends mostly towards the deeper notes. The music starts and I wait for my cue, and the only thing I can do now, whether I’m ready or not, is sing.
As a child I was always nervous to speak or act in front of an audience. But I just took the chance. I started with a choir. In a choir you sing in front of an audience, but you are just one face in the singing crowd.
They make me nervous. But at the same time I love them.
You know who’s annoying? That girl who thinks that people are watching her all the time. The one who is constantly hyper-aware of her perfect makeup. Or that guy who does the same thing. I mean, come on, nobody’s around. Feel free to lose your “swagger walk” any time you’d like to.
the audience was terrifying. they judged, they sat there & judged. they took no part in the creation but witnessed it & thought of it whatever they pleased. they took every word & diminished it in their heads. they took every sound & turned it unpleasant. they took every song & made it noise. the audience was harsh, the audience was cruel, the audience was mankind.
standing in front of a crowd, watching them judge and attack you like a pool of sharks.
I don’t know who my audience was, nor did I care. I simply go out every day, even all the days before those days, and I am myself. I didn’t ask for an audience, but I realize that I have one despite my desire to acknowledge that I DO have one every single day. There are always people watching. I suppose that’s why I try to be the best me that I can be.
the audience applauded loudly, creating a sonic boom. the whole theatre burst into flames from the explosion. moral of the story: don’t clap for shitty performances, or you’ll die a terrible and horrific death.
Audience, that’s what you have, all day, everyday. You walk down a street and already many people have had a flash-thought about you. Weather it be how you look or if your face just flashed in their mind. There’s no such thing as privacy as even if you’re alone someone is your audience and will have thought of you.
Hello again. I’m talking about audience, even though I dont have one. This is evidenced by the fact that i am clearly typing into the void of the internet. Will anyone read this? who knows. Not me. I dont think i’d like an audience at this time, however, as its late at night and i’m sleeepy and probably quite dull.
there is always, always an audience. people watching, people judging. PEOPLE TO PLEASE.
need we please them? need we appease them?
can we ever escape the consistency of them?
who is your audience?
judgement. whether you are brilliant, funny, boring or stupid. no one can be a crowd pleaser, no one can be pleased. at least not everyone…
when I was eight I was a flying monkey in the wizard of oz. We were all girls with high pitched voices and we waltzed through the audience singing “yo eee o” as loud as our prepubescent female voices could muster. From there on out I knew I wanted to be an actress.
in the large thearter the audience is waiting anticipating the start of the show. The audience is the measurment of whether the show is good or bad. they are going to experience the maddness, the fun, the love, the many emotions of the characters in the play.
I love an audience. It makes me happy if I make them laugh. When they laugh I feel like I’ve made a connection. There’s something about making others happy with laughter even if it’s for just a few seconds. I wish I had the confidence to be an entertainer.
Why can I never perform in front of an audience without getting unbearably nervous? But it’s only when I’m alone. Chorus concert? No problem. Band concert? No problem. Piano recital? No way. It’s just so nerve wracking, my hands literally shake before I go up on stage. Neither of my parents get it, and maybe they never will…it’s just too much stress, everyone focused on me. Does anyone feel that way too?
The audience rose to their feet. The childrens play was wonderful. The Christmas story went on with out a hitch. Mrs. Leri was very relieved to see that her twins, Bobby and Bo didn’t fight or miss one line. After all they had practiced every night for a month, seemed like a year betwe
playing to the audience is something I’m not well versed at. I used to be fearful of it, but have outgrown that. I have moved instead, into avoidance. Not out of fear, but out of a lack of confidence in myself. Out of thinking too much what people think. How do I overcome that?
People sitting in a crowded theater listening to someone else blab on about their many attributes and their unimportant life style, hilarity, laughing and clapping at other’s misfortunes, a bandwagon, joining together simultaneously in the fact that we have joined together on this day and have something in common in that this room is our temporary living space and we are now a family.
An audience is a thing that strikes fear in my heart. Giving speeches, performing, just the thought of having eyes transfixed on me and me alone is certainly something to be nervous about. I hate audiences.