Skuller.

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Saturday, June 27

Achromatic.

The past few days went by in a blur. A colourless blur, to be exact. I think I need to keep track of the finer details in my life; with each second I swear I hear sounds of disintegrating brain cells, and that's never a good sign. I hope it's not Alzheimer's, I'm too young. Ignore my musings.

I must say, working with the drama juniors was just surreal (what, I love that word). Yeah I know I only came for like, two or three rehearsals with them, but having been put in such an authoritative position once again...it sorta' gave me the jellos. That said, I just want to say that they (especially those in Group 1) did a fine job for their performance at Jurong Point yesterday. I see so much of us (Year 2's) in them. And it's kinda scary. Hahaha.

In other things drama, production rehearsals are still in progress. I need to get myself time to actually practice all of my lines, plus remember all of the things I have to do on stage (movement, facial expressions; it does not come easy). Had rehearsals this morning by the way. Although I promised, I wasn't able to make it for Group 2's performance in the evening (sorry Vicki!). Wonder how the Bangladeshi workers reacted today (haha, like Mardiana and the Ah Pek). I suddenly miss rehearsing dance steps for drama skits. Which brings us to...

Thriller. Yes, I still can't believe that the Michael Jackson is gone. Just like that. He was such a massive influence in people's lives (you gotta be like made outta stone to not be) that his passing actually came as a personal blow, to many. I feel so proud knowing all of those Thriller dance steps. This only makes that loss stronger. May he continue to live on in our limbs. Sigh.

Another thing. School's out for one more week. I hope nothing gets serious though, everything important is coming up. Swine flu, be nice. Grandmother dear won't let me go to school, unless of course, I lie to her. Haha. For the rest of this week, I just ask for three things: my body clock, a movie date, and some quality alone time with my reflection and a good book.

Oh, I smell burnt pita bread. Gotta go. The man in the mirror is hungry.

I just had to end it off like that. Jeez.

--wan.

Labels: drama, nostalgic

posted at 23:01