Some peel like and onion while others are shoveled over sentiments like the layer’s of Schliemann’s Troy. The man in the iron mask, except in his case, it was gold. Except of course as well instead of the sediment of series of lost cites one thinks that they’re all part of one single high rise. It’s alway pin the tail on the puppet. It’s like Kraft Mystery Theater. Great to be impulsive but where does it ultimately lead? A signature standing in for identity. Corpus colosseum aside, will one be found out, found lacking, be expelled? The neighbors above are pounding the floor with a broom handle. What does it really say to claim to really want to break their neck? Reality says that you’ll just avoid their glance the next time you pass them in the hall. The funny thing about acting is not to be caught acting. Let those around you think that it’s the real you! That’s what Brando would do, and he was considered angry as well!
The Man In The Gold Mask