Blaine why are you yelling at me

Puck pinned him to the wall. I don't forgive you for what happened with Blaine and Kurt. Especially not Finn Barry remembered that this man was Finn's best friend. Sam said, "I don't forgive you either! Suddenly, Sam was pulled back.

Oliver punched him in the face. It was all a blur. Oliver was fighting Sam and Puck. They started a melee, everyone was fighting each other. Well, some people tried to stop the fight, but just made it worse, eventually getting into the fight. Except for Barry. He sped around everyone, and separated them. We didn't all come here to fight. We came here to see our friends again. To talk about life. To sing. A few people giggled. The break was over, and the New Directions and Warblers were getting ready to preform "Black or White.

Apple began working with the group, and, once she got to know Corry, she started to see C. In a text, she told me that, if C. He is so WEAK. At times, Apple questioned her ability to be in any romantic relationship. Last fall, she went through another breakup, with a man she had dated for about a year. I was feeling safer with her here.

Hallman, an affable, silver-haired lesbian, grew up poor in Appalachia; after studying engineering at Stanford, she worked in the California energy industry. In the mid-aughts, she moved to L. In addition, Hallman sat in on our interviews and at recording sessions; she often took videos, posting them online. They slept on the daybeds in the living room. After my July visit, Apple began to text me. Occasionally, she sent a screenshot of a text from someone else, seeking my interpretation a tendency that convinced me she likely did the same with my texts.

In another video—broken into three parts—she appeared in closeup, in a white tank top, free-associating. I forgot about that. She chalked this up to a fear of outside influences, but she had a tetchiness about younger songwriters, too. But she also had something that resembled a repetition compulsion—she wanted to take all the risks of her early years, but this time have them work out right.

When I returned to Venice Beach, in September, the mood was different. Anxiety suffused the house. In July, Apple had been worried about returning to public view, but she was also often playful and energized, tweaking mixes. You can talk to me.

That episode was about the death of Alison, one of the main characters. Played by Ruth Wilson, Alison is a waitress living in Montauk, an intense beauty who is grieving the drowning death of her son and suffers from depression and P. She falls into an affair with a novelist, and both of their marriages dissolve. As we watched, Apple took notes, sitting cross-legged on the daybed.

In one sequence, Alison, devastated after a breakup, gets drunk on a flight to California, as her seat partner flirts aggressively, feeding her cocktails. He assaults Alison as she drifts in and out of consciousness. She fights back, complaining to the flight attendant, but the man turns it all around, making her seem like the crazy one; she winds up handcuffed, as other passengers stare at her.

Apple found the sequence horrifying—it reminded her of how she came across in her worst press. Her head lowered and her arms crossed, she began to perseverate on her fears of touring. I have lots of rage inside. I have lots of sadness inside of me. Later, we tried to listen to the album. Apple has tried all kinds of cures. She was sent to a family therapist at the age of eleven, when, mad at her sister, she glibly remarked, on a school trip, that she planned to kill herself and take Amber with her.

After she was raped, she spent hours at a Model Mugging class, practicing self-defense by punching a man in a padded suit. In , she attended eight weeks of silent Buddhist retreats, meditating from 5 a.

She had a wild breakthrough one day, in which the world lit up, showing her a pulsing space between the people at the retreat—a suggestion of something larger. She tried a method for treating P. The first day we met, Apple spread printouts of brain scans on the floor of her studio, pointing to blue and pink shapes. She was seeking patterns, just as she often did on Tumblr, reposting images, doing rabbit-hole searches that she knew were a form of magical thinking.

She loved getting loose on wine, but not the regret that followed. Her father has been sober for decades, but when Apple was a little kid he was a turbulent alcoholic.

He hit bottom when he had a violent confrontation with a Manhattan cabdriver; Apple was only four, but she remembers his bloody face, the nurse at the hospital. Apple, at two, had wandered around an adult party, drinking the dregs. For decades, Apple has taken prescription psychopharmaceuticals. In December, she began having mood swings, with symptoms bad enough that she was told to get an MRI, to rule out a pituitary tumor. In the end, Apple said, she had to wean herself off an antipsychotic that she had been prescribed for her night terrors; the dosage, she said, had been way too high.

Earlier that fall, she had given an interview to the Web site Vulture, in which she was brassy and perceptive. Sleeping is the most difficult part of what I do, relaxing afterwards. Letting things go. It comes naturally. Thinking involves many things. It involves being an observer. We take these things for granted. There are other angels that exist besides your mother. My mother is protecting me, too.

MADONNA: I became very obsessed with death, and the idea that you never know when death will arrive, so one has to do as much as possible all the time to get the most out of life.

That would be a motivating force. And death was a big part of my life growing up. I went to lots of funerals … But you digress. We were thinking about thinking. So there. That was their big thing—it should be available to everyone. It was so important for Keith to be able to draw on subways and walls.

Little did he know that his art would become pop culture. I remember hearing them talk about those things. Martin Burgoyne, my roommate, who was also an artist, Keith Haring, and Basquiat. You were way ahead of your time. We found each other and we connected to each other and we moved around the city together.

They supported my shows. I supported their shows. We were a unit. It just did. I was blown away by that, that he worked when he felt moved. And they gave jobs to everyone.

You just purposefully triggered a lot of painful stuff, so—" "But now you can prove them wrong! He's practically bouncing next to Kurt. Blaine suddenly seems to realize that Kurt is serious and his smile falters. I—I thought that maybe…I mean…you didn't fight back then, so I thought maybe you could—" "So you decided to toss me back into the ring without my permission," Kurt finishes for him.

What gave you the right to make that decision for me? I just. The white knight who swoops in and gets me a part and now I'm supposed to be grateful that you gave me my dream except it's not my dream anymore, is it?

I didn't—I didn't mean to upset you. I just thought—" "You assumed," Kurt says, almost to himself. But I really, really want to. Maybe—maybe we should do your eight meaningful conversations before we try to—" Blaine grimaces. But…it's not what I want, Kurt. I still want to cook for you. I still want to run lines with you. And—" "Maybe after this stupid performance is over. This is—awful. Hell, I did that, too. Eventually you gotta face reality, you know?

I understand that. But I still sing for people. Or like what you did when Blaine first auditioned. Hell, same as he knows he will forgive Blaine even, although that one may take longer, if only because Blaine has to get over the idea of himself as the white knight before Kurt can let this go. Kurt takes it, sniffing gingerly, and raises his eyebrows.

Also, I just But we have to work together. Especially not against someone who is clearly sorry and wants to make it better. I want to fix it so badly.

Please tell me how. I think so, anyway. The whole After a moment, he glances over his shoulder and sees Blaine biting his lip to stop a grin. My mother, she is crying What more is there to say? She feels like I am dying Not just going away. He sees Mercedes nodding her encouragement and he swallows before continuing. This ship has been my home; Her crew my family. No matter where I roam I love her dearly. He inhales sharply and forces his voice to release the power he knows he has.