“Well, now
If little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you
Little by little
If suddenly you forget me
Do not look for me
For I shall already have forgotten you

If you think it long and mad the wind of banners that passes through my life
And you decide to leave me at the shore of the heart where I have roots
That on that day, at that hour, I shall lift my arms
And my roots will set off to seek another land”

Pablo Neruda, Selected Poems (via kushandwizdom)


A lot of people have asked me if I was really drunk while shooting. The answer is no, I was not really drunk. I did get drunk one night for research, though.

It only took four drinks. After each drink, BJ would check in with me, asking, “How do you feel now? What’s different?” He made me describe, in detail, the various levels of drunkenness. It was interesting because after the first two drinks, I said, “I feel really buzzed and dizzy.” I was laughing a lot. By drink No. 4, I said, “I don’t really feel drunk at all. I feel normal now.” BJ said, “Really? Because you are talking really loud and you just almost fell over.”