The one biggest mystery to me about K-pop is where the hell do they get the budget and time to construct such spectacular sets?
Seriously. U.S. artists can barely manage a grungy basement scene without either greenscreening half of it or going to an already-constructed establishment/club/other building. I mean, take the videos for either Keep Your Head Down or The Boys as an example.
U-Know’s Fire Hallway (at least 30’ deep, maybe 10’ wide with some real pyrotechnics)
Max’s Light Room (probably similar dimensions to the fire room, with a 20’ ceiling, plus lighting)
Performance Hall One (seems to be semicircular, 30’ wide and 20’ deep, set height 35’?)
Performance Hall Two (12’ ceiling, 20’ deep and wide?)
Balcony (with background keyed in, obviously)
The Boys sets:
Snow/Igloo Set (I’m calling digital extension on this one, but still at least 60’ across)
Flower Petal Set (Lit area is a circle with 20’ diameter, but the unlit part unknown.)
Performance Hall One (60’ deep, 30’ wide, 20’ ceiling WITH glass floor, water underneath, spotlights, geometric wall art, etc.)
Performance Hall Two (Playing with forced perspective here, but probably 60’ wide, at least 40’ high)
Assortment of Close-up Shots that seem to be in front of two different backgrounds for each girl, but the second background that went almost completely unused/was not meant to have appeared in the final edit (visible at around 4:24 and 4:32, with the evidence being that the outfit/styling is not the same as any other shot in the video) possibly being the same as Set 3.
This is probably overanalysis, but my point is that I’m just really perplexed that U.S. directors (and/or the artists’ labels) are unwilling to go to such great lengths to create a really good product.
Till The World Ends sets:
"filmed inside a basement in Los Angeles, California"
I’m willing to admit that I’m wrong, and have been wrong, if you are too.
Do you remember what you said to me at the Recycled Formal last year? Do you remember what you told me about her when I was almost in tears by the bathroom? I was already starting to not trust her, and you only confirmed what I was starting to feel. I mean this seriously, but without condescension: I need you to remember what you told me about what you saw in my friendship with her.
It hurts me that I hurt you. I wish you would stop keeping your feelings inside of you until they completely boil over. I need to hear what you have to say and what you’re feeling, because it helps me know what I’m doing wrong.
I am dreadfully, deeply, hopelessly insecure about the way I look. That’s why I care so much about appearances. I hate my body. I hide it under my clothes. I am again very serious when I say this: the only lasting judgements I make are the ones I make about myself. I really don’t give a lasting fuck about that girl from school who wore sweatpants and flip-flops to school, or if one of my friends wore something that I particularly didn’t care for, et al. because, despite the way I come across, I relate to people on a deeply personal level and not any other way.
Do you really think that I would be friends with the people I’m friends with if I chose them based on their outer appearances? No, because I’d be friends with all the popular, stupid girls who dress much differently from all of my friends and have half the personality that my friends do. Those friends include you.
I guess the reason that I keep bringing this up is that maybe it meant more to me than it did to her. I waited so long. Nothing changed for her. She was still with her friends, the same school, everything. It wasn’t hard for her like it was for me. So I’m not surprised that she’s only talked about me once. I didn’t matter to her like she mattered to me.
I can’t fix things I don’t know are broken. A key part of a healthy friendship is transparency and open communication; if something’s wrong, I can guarantee that I’m always ready to listen, especially when it’s something I’ve done wrong.
You biggest mistake is thinking that I thought I knew all of you. I never have and never will. I harbor no illusions about that, because the one thing that’s always been clear to me is that you keep your cards close to your chest.
I’d like that list. At the very least I would like to not repeat past mistakes, so it would be selfish and foolish of you to not tell me exactly what I did wrong.
I am furious that you’re putting the onus on me for making you feel that you’re unable to make friends. How can you blame me for making you feel inadequate when the only thing that I did was feel inadequate about myself? Take responsibility for your own actions and reactions.
I never “threw you away.” I was so afraid that she would convince you to get up and leave me that I did the only thing I thought I could do to stop us from falling apart. It obviously was naïve to hope that isolating myself from everything to do with her, including you, would keep that from happening, but that’s what I did anyway. I didn’t intend to throw you away, and I hate that it felt that way to you.
The cycle is complete now, I suppose. To whatever degree of intentionality, I threw you away like Carly threw me away, like you threw Jen away, and like Carly threw Meghan away before me.
I will miss our friendship. It was real friendship to me. I dug you out of a snowbank when you slid off the road, after all, because that’s what real friends do. I went out over the summer with you and took hundreds of pictures with you; I even let down my guard and insecurities enough to let you shoot me, even though I still hate being photographed, and even though you’re the only person beside my father who I’ve felt comfortable enough with to do that, because I thought that you were a real friend.
Don’t act like you can just take back what you said. “I hate seeing you with her because she’s poisonous to you. Your friendship is bad.”
I can absolutely say something like, “She meant more to me than I did to her.” You don’t do the things that she did to me if you care about them.
I can’t even believe that those conversation never meant anything to you. I really wish I hadn’t had those conversations with you now, because I was sharing some of the deepest emotional wounds I was feeling at that time. I can guarantee that similar conversations we would have today would be very different, because it’s not hurting me right now like it was last winter. But those feeling were very real and very personal at the time.
But go have fun with her. Go smoke hookah or get high or whatever it is that you do with them, go talk about your holier-than-thou music and amazing poetry, and leave me the fuck alone. I know who my friends are now.
Ah, thanks. Admittedly, my skin is probably the single feature I’m most insecure about. Thankfully, it isn’t as bad anymore as it was in that picture—as I said, the picture’s about three years old—but it’s still not perfect, and I definitely hold a lot of that insecurity pretty deeply still.
But also, for the purposes of the edit I just made to that picture, I was just practicing different skills in Photoshop. A subtle hand comes with practice, I’ve noticed.
Just as an observation, I’ve noticed that I don’t feel a huge imperative to post about my day or my life anymore. I haven’t been writing as much recently either.
My life has been very eh of late. No highs, no lows, just flatlining it, really. I almost understand why upper middle-class kids turn to drugs just to escape.
I have no nonmaterial goals, higher callings that I feel are within achievable grasp.
I keep distancing myself from my emotions because I’m super fucking tired of the lows hurting so much, but I guess that means I distanced myself from the highs as well.
I just want someone to hold.
I remember feeling that my one compass, my whole direction in life was to come home to my friends. It was being a coiled spring for three years, waiting to be back where I deserved to be. It was a negative force, but I guess the point is that it was at least a force. Something to strive and wait and want for.
I don’t remember the last time I cried, which is the distance thing again. I almost miss crying, you know? It’s messy and it hurts (physically, I mean; a really hard crying session leaves my facial muscles burned up) but it feels good, too. There must be a lot of endorphins released during crying.
My other driving force has been romantic attraction, but the well’s dry on that source right now.
It’s literally the tackiest thing I can think of, but Gaga is sometimes the only thing I’ve been able to consistently be excited for in the last six months.
See. I told you it was tacky.
I hate that I’ve become a sponge for facts that I’m pretty sure are useless. My growing and already relatively intimate knowledge of the music industry won’t get me shit in the real world.
I keep coming back, in my head, to this post I saw on Tumblr that was a quote attributed to Albert Einstein. It was something about judging a fish on it’s ability to climb a tree and how that was a futile exercise because obviously a fish is good at many many things, but climbing a tree isn’t one of them, and that the fish will think itself stupid and useless because you’ve told it that it can’t climb trees very well. It just makes me wonder if I’m the metaphorical fish. My parents have always encouraged me to do what I want to do, just as long as I took the traditional standard education route to get there. I wonder if I had more potential if I could have grown at my own pace, or if I had moved up a grade, or something. Because I’m sitting here as a high school senior, feeling simultaneously like an idiot and far more intelligent than even I can comprehend, because I only see my inability to climb trees and not my ability to harvest dissolved oxygen through my gills. Anyway, I have no idea if Albert Einstein actually even said that.
I can honestly say that three years ago, I never saw myself where I am right now. I would have downright laughed in their face if someone had told me I wouldn’t be friends with Carly, but here I sit, not having had a full face-to-face conversation with her in more than half a year. Incredible, really. I would have laughed in their face.
I’m still trying to find ways to articulate how much I don’t want to settle for someone. I want lost-my-breath, best-person-I-ever-met, please-hold-my-hand-and-also-can-you-get-into-my-bed? all in one person. I want someone who I can have a really intelligent, interesting conversation with more than someone who agrees with me or likes all the same things.
The thing that’s starting to scare me the most about not getting into a good school is that what if I’m surrounded by idiots and I don’t find someone worth dating? Everyone’s telling me that college is so much better for dating, and that I’ll find the right guy, but what if I don’t even get into college? Did that scenario play out in your hypothetical future?
Kissing is weird.
I’m pretty sure I’m gonna be really bad at kissing.
That’s all I can think of for now. I want to say more, but nothing else is coming yet, so.
Dude, Aunt Laurel is gettin’ the freshest imports in the music industry. I’m giving her some choice cuts from Pixie Lott’s new album, only the best K-pop (Literally. “I Am The Best” by 2NE1 is on this CD.), as well as some radio staples like Rihanna and Gaga.