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We weren't born with a name, we were given a name. A hedgehog doesn't have a name. It's just a nameless thing with a handful of flesh and skin and a beating heart. A hedgehog doesn't even know it doesn't have a name.
 
 
   
 
Sunday, November 07, 2004
 
and so all things come to an end...

and it sets in, that little tinge of the blues... as i step through the doorway into an empty hall at 340am in the morning, knowing that i don't have to rush off to sleep as there is not going to be a show the next day. It's funny how we always get to know people better and have a chance to have fun with them only at the lastest possible opportunities. It is only after the after-party that I begin to find myself rather comfortable with my cast members. How ironic, considering we don't have to see each other day in and day out anymore. I'll only see them once more, for our drama exam, before I fly on home for a good long three months. So much can change then, so much can be forgotten then. And the post production blues sets in, the feeling of emptiness, of limbo, permeates my being as I think on the free days ahead. The lack of meaning and purposeness. This play was what I lived for for the past few months, and now it's gone. I'll get used to it and get over it, I know... but just for now, there's this void in me which yearns out for something. Im going home in seven days, somehow I'm not that excited... I just wanted this night to never end: from the adrenaline before the show of knowing this was the last time we were going to perform the show; to the rushed scribblings of sweet letters to each other, to the lack of focus in the show cuz of the excitement, to the uncontrolled rapture at closing our run, to the tedious bump out, to the after party... let it all not end. And yet as I sit here, thinking back on the night's events, I can't help but feel the fragility and ephemeral nature of the nature of work I'm in. I will always, always, always experience this feeling of emptiness. It comes with the job description.

For the benefit of those of you who're wondering, no, I didn't have the guts to get Andrew's number. I don't think I'll ever see him again, even though we're in the same uni and in the same building, please understand, the music half of the building is foreign territory to drama students, and vice versa, although the music auditorium and our drama theatre and rehearsal room share a common foyer, nodrama student goes to the music side of the foyer for no reason, and vice versa. The foyer is the one and only thing we share. Nothing else. They hate us, we detest them. Anyhow, I shan't see him at least for the next three months, so I should be back to normal by then, and he shall just be another muso that I know... I hope... Either way, we wouldn't look good together, so there. It will have been doomed from the start had it started. Another one of Daphne's non-realistic fantasy relationships. But I still wanna get to know him, as a person, because he does intrigue me as a person; he is the only person I've come across who likes the same kind of music I do. Is what I'm asking for too much? But like I said, move on and move out, there's no time for us to stand and stare, nothing comes of it.

And life returns to normal. But I don't want it to be normal. I want it to be spectacular. So help me God.

 

 
   
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