Friday, January 28, 2011

On concepts and conceptualizing

Bird points out that we're all from girls' schools and that we're fully aware of the nonsense we can and do pull.
The funny bit is when one isn't fully aware that another is fully aware.


I had an idea-
Birdcages, two large ones. My main character(s) and a birdcage. Being able to set other people free but not themselves.
It's in my head, and I was always better at words.
Unfortunately, we're thinking my birdcages won't fit on stage because it needs to come through the side doors first. Plus it's hard to make because of the curve.

I need something to play with.
Someone give me something to play with.

Wednesday, January 26, 2011

But then I know-

that I can come home, curl up with you
and find that the world will right itself in the morning

Tuesday, January 25, 2011


And crumbling

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Monday, January 24, 2011

parce que

you know how to make a girl smile in the mornings,
and in the middle of work,
and while commuting.
At midday, and after,
during afternoon tea and for longer,
and way, way beyond months she thought would serve as velvet rope.

there isn't anyone besides you.

Sunday, January 23, 2011

snippets of tonight-


*side note:
I've missed it. And I'm glad I got to do it. And I'm glad I got to do it with people that actually get it.

Alka Seltzer.

Trust your mommy when she swears by alka seltzer

"The girlfriend wants Bak Chor Mee and Prawn Mee at the wedding."
"Now that's an idea. How interesting."
"I know right."

oooh, all the sappy love stuff!


will need to let her go eventually.
will need to say to step back.
will need to know-
that loving someone, doesn't necessarily mean being with them.

you know that, right love?

Saturday, January 22, 2011


I can find a way to make this work.
To be, and still save me from myself.
Surely, I can, right?

I'm jittery at the thought of this. But then, I'm always jittery at the thought of new things.
Moving, moving out, getting a car (not that high on the list right now),
and now...

It's just that, I've been a teacher for such a while that,
it's almost difficult to be a student.

At the beginning it was easy to slip into that role, and especially with people I trust.
To be directed, to watch Ajan during Muay Thai, to listen to Erika talk about a horse's footfalls.
But then when it comes to something that you feel.
Gawd, I don't even know how to begin talking about it.

It's effort.
It takes effort to sit there.
Yes, I do. I want to. I want to sit there and absorb and absorb and absorb. And I also want to do. To throw myself in wholly and without thought.

"You need to do this for yourself," Jenny told me, "not for your students. This has to be for you."
And last year, it was. Last year, right after I'd finished filming Big Girl and I'd talked with Ross,
I knew I had to go back to it. And I knew it was for me.
But then, that's slipped away a little bit.
And it's almost like, I don't know how to do this for me anymore.


you have to know,
I'm thinking about you as I tuck myself in tonight.

Friday, January 21, 2011

Being home

Take turns to do the dishes
and find our way of folding laundry

We'll still sit in playgrounds and by reservoirs some evenings,
complete with ice-cream or juice or jafacakes
Pick days to cook, picnic or eat on our own

We'll start with us,
before finding space for extra lego and tiny shoes.

Fight, to fix it.
Go away,
just to come back again

Oh surely you've got something to stop this giddy, dizzying, smiling mess you've made of me.

all of me-


Thursday, January 20, 2011

The morning will come

In the press of every kiss,
With my head upon your chest

We'll always have sunsets, even if there isn't.
And picnics
And park benches

always worth it

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Monday, January 17, 2011


it started off lovely. Brilliantly, fantastically.

Why am I sad now?

Sunday, January 16, 2011

The Rabbit Hole

Becca: And then what? (beat.)
Howie: I don't know. Something though. We'll figure it out.
Becca: Will we?
Howie: I think so. I think we will.
Silence. They just sit for several beats, not even looking at each other. They're scared. Then Becca takes Howie's hand. They hold on tight. And the lights slowly fade.

-- Rabbit Hole, by David Lindsay-Abaire. An excerpt.

I'm okay with the one I've found myself in.

There is a problem

with me and dance shows,
with me and concerts,
with me and court scenes,
with me and relationships.

When I watch dance shows,
Ballet and Jazz Ballet especially, I always feel like going back to it.
Like, filled with this searing desire to go back to it.
Having watched Black Swan, I went and looked up ballet classes for adults. That's how bad I had the bug. And then I feel a tad sad that I didn't stick it out when I was a kid.

When I watch concerts, or concert-type things that involve singing,
I miss it myself. I fight the urge to climb up onto the stage and sing and run around and be a complete fool. Or, I sink into my seat, pained by the injustice that I see before my eyes as someone with clothes falling off her petite frame murders and rips the guts out of a beautiful song.

When I watch court scenes, or read about them (Hello, all you Jodi Picoult fans!)
I think to myself, "God, I should be a lawyer."
To delivery speeches so compelling it moves your audience jury, to a decision. To dissect and analyze and choose your words such that you allow people into the grey area, if not force them to see into the black and white.

Then I realize, over and over and over again,
that I'm just a performer. Maybe that's it then, that's my problem. I'm a performer and it doesn't matter what I'm doing, I just want to perform.
And I sit, mull it over, chew on the thought like a Mint-flavoured gum.
But I find that answer doesn't quite cut it.
I think it's the intensity in the above three. From movement to movement, or moment to moment. The sureness of it. The knowing exactly and precisely what will come next.
Knowing it so well, that your body does, even before you do.
Because Lord knows, you're screwed if you don't.

When I watch relationships,
up close or from afar, I get scared. Scared, irked, disturbed.
Sometimes, sometimes, there's the "aww" factor.
"Aww, that's kinda cute." "Aww, really?" "Aww, a new toothbrush?"
I think the weirdest things get me. Flowers are nice, but a toothbrush you picked out, or chocolate or a CD or tape that made you think of me, that makes me smile.
Aww-factor aside.
For the most part, I am scared. Clearly I can't put across to you the immensity of how I feel.
But scared like, half paralyzed fear sometimes.
If not irked, if not disturbed, if not barfing.
Not because it's not all nice and sweet, it is. But there's just, well, a lot of stuff that comes attached.
So, no.
I don't ever look at relationships and ever, ever, EVER think, I'd like to be in one.
I might think, "that bit would be nice", but never, "I'd like to be in a relationship."

And here's the thing-
the intensity of it is what scares me the most.

I sit on empty stages, stare out into a sea of empty chairs and think,
"Isn't that odd?"
But I take in what I am, the space I'm in and what I am in this space. I am home here, on this empty stage.
I don't need an audience to perform.
I don't always know what I mean, or what my words are trying to say, but I learn to trust myself.

And I find myself with my eyes closed, standing on one foot,
learning to find the joy in losing my balance
and not being prepared for what might come next.

and this,

made me think of Sumer.

You're lovely. And I hope one day,
you'll dance again.


Dear Victor,

this made me think of you.
It feels like something you'd say.
and then it made me go,


Saturday, January 15, 2011


You're a collection of one-liners, phrases, random words,
all of them running wild inside me, tangling themselves up and kicking, laughing, screaming as they try to untangle themselves.

I'm taken up by To Do lists, Must Meet Up Soon lists, I Miss Hanging Out lists. And when I'm busy, I am.
For the most part I am there, anywhere, in full. There is all of me present.

Still these words, they swim furiously about.
Brushing the insides of my skin the way cats wander past you.
Happy, bubbly and filling me. These words, these random thoughts, these pictures and these pictures of pictures.
They curl themselves out like smoke, whisper themselves into my ear, sneak across my skin. Sending jolts through me, I am momentarily distracted.
And for all of two seconds, three, sometimes ten seconds, twenty- I am yours.

you've got me.
Don't you see?

See how you've got me.

Thursday, January 13, 2011

Sunday, January 9, 2011


I think it's hilarious how sometimes people point out how you don't talk very much to them. How it's like, after so long, they hardly know you sometimes.
"When did that happen?"
"I wish you'd told me." or "Why didn't you tell me?"
"You don't tell me things anymore."

It's hilarious because,
most times, it honestly isn't for the lack of trying.

And after a while,
after trying over and over and getting cut off and digressing or having the other person always always always embark on a, "Omg I know how that feels because once when I..."
It just doesn't make sense to talk anymore, quite simply.

It doesn't even always have to be people one is close to.
In crowds, and large groups of friends of friends or acquaintances or parties or not-really-quite-strangers,
it's amazing how you literally find yourself trailing off mid-sentence. And not feel the least bit inclined to continue with what you were saying because you know for a fact that they didn't give two hoots.
I'm not even beginning to talk about looking bored or not maintaining eye-contact.

I'm talking about how it's become so much a part of so many people that they don't even bother to pretend to have been listening. They cut you off mid-sentence to speak across you, to tell you something new and random, to walk away, even.
And it leaves you thinking, Hey maybe I don't actually exist.
Or better yet,
Hey maybe the person I thought I was talking to, doesn't actually exist.
I mean, this can't possibly be real life, can it?

The last month and three weeks, some parts of today included,
I have just watched (my horror on the inside) streams and streams of people do that.
No I don't need everyone to be even remotely interested in Drama or Theatre. Sometimes I'm not even talking about that.
Sometimes, I'm not even the one talking and I'm watching it happen with other people!

Just don't.

Don't start talking about something you're not actually interested in hearing or having a conversation about. Don't pretend and don't talk for the sake of talking, for crying out loud.

Jenny said in our first class, that we're going to go back out into the real world and hate it for its dishonesty.
I never figured it'd be this bad. I mean I've thought about this and written about it in brief before I'm pretty sure. But it's come back to me and I am just, stunned really.

People think that Actors are the best liars.
But they don't understand that they've gotten everything in reverse.
And that the Fourth wall is actually a mirror.

Isn't it funny though?

How there are things that are supposed to and meant to be special,
except for the most part, they just haven't been?
And there's nothing wrong with that I guess.
Because that's the way it's always been. And it's always been okay.
And there is a painful honesty in the bare truth of it.

To the point that it feels like actually is such a completely new take and feeling altogether.

But isn't it funny though?
How there're things that are supposed to be nice and good and wonderful and beautiful and ladeeda...
Except for most of the time you've spent being who you are,
those things just.
Haven't been.

Saturday, January 8, 2011

Got a ticket to ride

It's time to move.
For me at least.
Because I'm tired and restless, nonchalant and worried, uninvolved and included
all at the same time.

I honestly wish I didn't feel like this.
Honestly wish there could be some way around it.
But there isn't.

Friday, January 7, 2011

Tuesday, January 4, 2011

on my way

I like that we're good(:

Okay soooo, this trip was A LOT more trying than I expected it to be.
I think I'm just getting old. I am old and tired. Sad dot com.
it's been tumultuous; An uncertain, insecure, refreshing, lovely, cold, loud, claustrophobic, interesting, and rather emotional trip.

I have learnt so, so much. And not just from The Acting Corps.
This trip's been filled with new experiences that I didn't even realize was happening.
Funny hey?

My free time's been spent baking, running, writing, running, skyping, shopping, running. And for the time spent here, as a whole, has been quality. I've been glad and grateful for days I spent indoors in the rain and days I spent out. I've gotten to know so many lovely people and gotten pretty close to a couple of them.
I said my goodbyes this morning and it was pretty much an aww-fest.

There'll be dinner tonight, and we'll finish the wine and the cake I made.
And then
and then and then and then,
I'll be on a morning flight out tomorrow.

and I'll see you in just a bit

January 3rd 2011, Monday

Sunday, January 2, 2011

Hurting Distance

There have been countless posts I've made in reference to this phrase.
It's a phrase that laces my thoughts, my decisions, my take when it comes to relationships and the nonsense it brings.

I prefer to keep myself safe.

I do a double-take when I find that something affects me more than usual. And then I try to figure out why. And then,
I leave.

because I'm lazy. I'm lazy to put cream on eyes that are swollen from crying, lazy to pick up the mess that is myself and carry on with my life. I'm lazy to feel so much, because it always means getting hurt.
But more than that, more than being lazy, I think I'm just tired.

It's a lot easier to lean back and not give a flying fuck about whatever's happening around you. And I do that.
My insecurity starts when I realize that I've changed gears without even realizing it- when a lot of things matter.

And then when that happens,
I leave.

"If it's bad news, tell me now so I can deal with it" She says
But it's sort of different, isn't it? We were grappling, or at least I was, with two different issues at the same time. Both had a "What's on your mind?" blank to fill in.
And I had no idea where to start.

I'd read her email on the morning of the day I was flying out of Frisco. The only problem was, I've kept getting called away from it just as I'm in the middle of replying.
And in the lapse of time before I get back to that darn reply, things come up in between. Clearly, if I sat down to reply that now, it'd be quite confusing and likely unrelated to the email before.

But that's what it's been in the last day or so. Streams of half finished sentences and thoughts, loud and fast trains on tracks that are broken somewhere in between.
I can't quite catch up.

Right now, honestly,
I'm a couple of steps behind, trying to get over whatever it was that I was hung up about like ten hours ago. Because uhm, as rubbish as it seems, I'm still getting over it. And no, I don't think there was any spite in it or anything mean, it's just,
I'm still getting over it.

A step at a time right?

I'm going for a run.

January 1st 2011, Saturday

Saturday, January 1, 2011

Happy New Year

I have a thing about New Years.
About crossing over to the other side, about the transition being an idea of the rest of the coming year. Most times, it doesn't result in anything much different from that. Most times, I take that transition, that in between from one year to the next, and work it into some kind of meaning.
But at the end of all of it, I think it's only a frame of mind.

I found myself sitting on the curb, in the cold, finishing off the last of my pack of Fortunas. Normally, I absolutely detest crossing over with smokes and take pains not to. But I wasn't counting this time.
The loud, happy Spanish festive music playing from the house across the street gave way to the sound of horns and cheers and squeals and party poppers. That followed with fireworks from random houses in the neighborhood- some patterns that stayed in the sky for ages, others that faded and were instantly replaced with more. That was how I realized it was the New Year.
The first person I spoke to, and said Happy New Year to was a random chap on a bicycle.
So that was me, the glow from the house behind me spilling out and casting my shadow on the empty road.

And then,
eight minutes past midnight, I walked into the house and poured myself a mug of warm water.

I'm not up for doing reflections right now, or looking back or any of that.
My head is ringing like a bitch, and I'm upset but too tired to cry.
But, like Vv's just said,
"there's not time for rubbish emotions" and I am in full agreement. After all, that's how I've been for the longest time. So basically, I don't understand why it should be any different these days.

Happy New Year.

Because honestly? it doesn't feel like I can do this anymore.

January 1st 2011, Saturday

I'm not that girl

Ev'ry so often we long to steal
To the land of what-might-have-been
But that doesn't soften the ache we feel
When reality sets back in

Don't wish, don't start
Wishing only wounds the heart
I wasn't born for the rose and the pearl
There's a girl I know

I'm not that girl