I'm sorry, can we stop for a second? I just, I feel like I need to say something, Barry.

[Barry: okay.]

This piece that I'm doing for class, is exactly what I should be doing.

[Barry: yeah I know it's great, what you're doing is…]

I'm terrified, okay? Because my piece is real. It's not a character, it's me. Raw, unapologetic truth with a capital T. All caps, actually, I'm thinking like a writer now.

I mean this was stuff I couldn't even talk about without lying, and here I am about just stripped naked in front of a bunch of strangers and share something I am massively ashamed of. Not literally, I don't believe in nudity, unless it drives the story forward.

I am afraid they're gonna judge me and I'm afraid that Sam is gonna find out and do something crazy, but I have to do this. It's my story to tell. But then so many other women have the same story. What, am I the spokesperson for them now? Could I be the face of the movement? I mean, what if I get it wrong? I resent the fact that Nick can get up there and talk about his stomach condition and it's not like he has to be the poster boy for bulimia but I get up there whatever I say it's like… "what are we saying about women?" … I mean, this is just MY STORY. "But what if you get it wrong, Sally?" "I don't know, you can't get it wrong Sally." "But you cannot tell either Sally, because it's who you are." Which makes the thing that my agent sent me on today so fucking insulting. 'Payback Ladies'? It's just another shit male idea of what strong women are. Oh oh ohh grab a gun and in some stilettos and it's gonna god damn blowout, and look how strong you are now! Sally! It's bullshit! Which by the way so is this, this is quite possibly the worst thing I've ever read, but you wanna know the worst part? You wanna know what's really driving me fucking crazy? I'm so jealous that you're reading for this, I've never had a director session for a feature, which is the same thing as a movie, P.S.. And I have been doing this for way longer, and I think you'd agree that I am way better. I… MADE YOU. And I'm actually represented by Gersh--well at least I was, I don't even know whether they rep me anymore after what I said in there today but still at least I held my ground because I am an artist, okay, an artist… and this is not fucking arts! But then, I mean, to be honest of course I am so happy for you! I mean, of course I want you to get this part and I want to be the one to help you learn your lines and fix your inflections but I need you to know that if you do get it, it's gonna make me like, like a hundred times more insane. Okay? … [Gasp.] Continue!

I'm okay with the fact that Sally doesn't really love Barry, not even a bit. She just feeds off Barry's indecisiveness and uses him as a bandage to cover her wound from both Sam and every other embodiment of "toxic musculanity" in her life; her intention for Barry is the same as what she said about Emma Stone's agent, that she wanted him to be her agent so that she could dump him when she got big. And I love the writing of Sally's character so much just because of that. She and Barry never really had a benign relationship, so what's the point of resenting her for being a bitch to him? Sally aspires for ascending. Barry takes pains in order for descending from a god-like place (which he was himself both unaware of and didn't know how to utilize) to the every-person mundaneness that Sally would give anything to leave behind.

Bill Hader is an instantaneously likeable person; the creator's monster, Barry Berkman, however, is not. The real touchstone of Barry's character is his absolute lack of character despite of him having the most sensational events of life. Even his dreams are so itchingly dull and devoid of intellectual self-reflection that it makes him pitiful to watch. To me, that's what makes Barry Berkman as should-be-just-another-male-leading-role in today's show industry utterly fanscinating; once they gave him a sharp character as if he were some kind of Macbethian anti-hero, all the magic would be lost. Indeed, the Barry/Macbeth parallel was drawn in Season One, but it was done so unpretentiously that it added almost nothing to our protagonist's personality; rather, it only spoke of the similarity between his real life tragics and the theatrical tragedy. That Barry had to go through partially what Macbeth did does not readily make him a Macbeth-like character. He is more ambivalent and less archetypical than that. He is the one left-out possibility of being a murderer that hasn't been discussed and tried out exhaustively up till now in the movie industry because of its unexcitedness. Sally, uncaring and narcissistic as she is, has no reason to see through the hollowness of his personality and learn that her boyfriend has been going through some shitty, incubating tormants and plights. (Actually there is more reason for her not to see that since her ignorance is a part of the comedy.) The transcendence from absurdity to ridicule is totally sensible to me, and it's so funny the moment you realize that how unrelatable yet sympathetic Barry's character is whereas how relatable yet obnoxious Sally's character is and that they are placed in a distanced, intimate relationship, struggling to move in two opposite directions while being stuck together in one storyline.

Barry is the freaking monster, who, I'm gonna say that again, could have been a god as he used to took lives without reason, mercy or regret but he chose to descend down towards the earth. Instead of turning into a human, he was forced by his humanity to become a monster. Sally is the most of the human race, who have been dreamt of ascending up towards the sky for tens of thousands of years. But they will never make it, neither will she--their monstrous cruelty keeps them safely tied to the ground while mutilating each other as human members. How can I help but name calling Barry and Sally as two ungrateful pieces of shit? As in the end they are both about just being the same person in different positions and over different time frames, I guess the joke is on me.