a short note
Nope. Not going back to melbourne. don’t panic. just in case. =)
beng, talking to you brings a smile on my face la. You make me excited, thanks for being supportive and ever-so happy to hear about what’s going on with me.
there’s much more to write. fill you up later.
god,
you must be joking! really.
you cannot mean that-
it can’t be,
you mean i am going back?
wake me up please.
i saw an application.
Grr. Someone is looking for good writers who are seasoned travellers “who don’t mind travelling”. I want. But they must be able to “surf, dive and take photos”. Take photos bit I can handle. Surf and dive on the other hand, I cannot. Argh.
Also, the 
is here. I have missed a few of them because they’re on cooking and stuff, and i’d be damned if i let the festival come and go again without as much as stepping a foot into it. Anyone keen? The (Aussie) screenwriter of Lantana and Strictly Ballroom will be conducting a screenwriting workshop. And I was about to key in my online reservations only to realise it was sold out. And I have missed all the late night text workshops that were creatively held in a bar. a spoken word poetry performance. Man!
a little less conversation[s]
am.
To suddenly feel out-of-sorts:
is sometimes knowing that something is just not quite right.
i hate that. not terribly exciting or motivating really.
like purgatory. only waiting. and hoping that all is well and that the guts were lying.
a quick prayer in the office
and wondering and hoping that one day i’d just
:- stop caring.
pm.
afterlunch makes me sleepy. i burp softshell crabs.
the aftermath of my thoughts
of god and life and what happens after we die.
i want to tell you that it does matter.
but my tongue is no longer eloquent
and i stumble with my words. the verbs. and other
important things.
perhaps one day you’ll find out.
