Feel better, friend.

 1.20am in a day i will have president-ed my first meeting few people, pizza, old friends  that, no, this - this feeling hits again.  Shiv says she'd like to stay in new york. like sanj, im sure sam, yan,  lasalle kids who want to do broadway  make music like bo  make art with a supportive community of diverse english speakers  where am i going with this?  i guess, how do i do this?  art isnt dead tho bo, i dont think you think it is. i think you think that way because you just feel bad man. you feel like because art does not do good then it is dead. but i do think it does good - if not for your fan xm or myself, then for yourself and then and therefore, myself. my self.  this is art for me, and it is more than enough. it is enough-enough.  i still have dreams you know? "Life Design" ones, multiple, many many dreams. Many-many.  ... so i guess tomorrow's will be the prototype. may i be as brave and courageous as i want my students to be. 

 Rain heavy, worried about leaks.  I close the Tetris tab i use to procrastinate things like work or sleep.  1:19am: the most productive time of the day.  Worried about life. Thinking of signing up for programs, masters, diplomas.  Thinking about death and life. Of me at 80, 90, 99 - looking back here, now.  Used to be a believer in a God - well - rather,  a life that would never end.  finality in clouds, over and over, beyond until the never more fullstop in the middle of a sentence.  a day ago i burn after my booster shot (covid 19, is it still here?)  and i go downstairs to grab panadol only to lose hearing and stability (vertigo?) on my way up. i thought i might die, well, at the very least faint  so close to the nerve of mortality, the body instructs you of your doom.  and i want to be a writer  i guess i am huh.  start a group, community, a something  "just put a voice, never mind, just a... word." just put a word to it:  well.  there's a word.  WELL.  you want to s

 learn to fly annies song someone to watch over me ella fitz strange fruit (nina!) only (lee hi??) crash my car (coin) might not make it home (yeh!)  i dont love you (mcr :P) a change is gonna come (sam)  all i could do was cry (etta) congratulations (english, day6, fox guy)  something tells me (bailen (?)) electric love (!borns!)  one day more (big mama(S)) 30 + goodbye (bo) white wine in the sun (t.minch) under the sea  many things (innocents?) paradise (bazzi)  chinese song? (yisa yu? qing ren something) official (charli)  like a river runs (sia <3)  im a fantastic wreck (montaigneee) start already (lioncityboi) only exception  may i have this dance (francis philcollins) youll be in my heart (phil philcollins) blank space / stand by me (imagine dragons) rainbow connection whisper in her ear (milk carton) dancing on my own (robynnnn) slow grenade (ellie) room at the table (charlie <3) school of rock  good morning baltimore selah / paris / sticky leaves (linying) 

I'm back again.  I'm glad Google has the save password function - forget the security concerns for a bit. It's been a... while.  I think I was a little lost for a bit there.  So I didn't register for Masters. Guess only the kiamsiap part of me cares (it cares deeply). I'm not ready. It's ok :)  I've been a little lost.  You know, had Julia, and of course the folks. So not all that bad. But I think at some point in Fifa 20 and Thesis: THE fifathesis year. I think I was presented with a future. An adult future of btos, babies, and the weird normality of adult life. Just another life presented ahead of me, and I was writing about Alfian Sa'at and his provocavitivititiactivitivities.  I dunno man. I guess I wanted to write? The TV dream right? Right? It would soon come, right?  Or maybe plays? Right? You're not that good, but still, you could? You could help others? Yeah. I always loved giving constructive feedback more than I liked writing plays. Maybe

I like my desk. It matches the drawers in the room and the armrests on the sofas. It goes with the walls and doors and ceiling which are either beige or a sullied shade of white. It reflects light in a similar way - similar, that is, to my own table, back at my own house. I like my desk because it became mine last week. It matches the drawers and the sofas and all the other aspects of the room, so it tells me that it is in the correct position. It is placed exactly where it was meant to be placed. With all the other things that are also in the correct order. It is at ease with itself, and with the friends around it. It is at home. Tonight I stood from across the street and tried to pick out the window that betrayed me every morning as it let the sun in. It looked just like any other window and I could not pick it out. I tried to find the specific blinds that rattled as I tried to find rest against the fiendish bed that had an automatic verbal response to every turn of my trou

Taha was the best show I've seen this year. Hlehel is outstanding in telling a story that needed to be told. He makes the best use of the monologue form, and his technique at keeping the attention of the audience is sublime. The intertwining of Taha's life story with his poetry was well-placed, relevant and thoroughly broke me by the end. The final poem - 'Revenge', sounded like a forgiveness that was hard to give, and as such carried with it the entire weight of Taha's personal story, and Hlehel's tie to him. It was personal, dynamic, and bore truths that resonated with me so deeply it shocked me. This was all I wanted from theatre.