Regrets, I've had a few
But then again, too few to mention
I did what I had to do
I saw it through without exemption
I planned each chartered course
Each careful step on the byway

But why can't I stand and proclaim like Frankie?

I did it my way

No, I can't

And to think, that a mere week ago we were the ones previewing, anxious over our cozzies and screwing up our lines and messing up the songs... That's all over and behind us now, and there is nothing to look forward to... It's ironic how you have so much to do when you're in a mood for idleness, and how much time for idleness you have when you plan to get out and do something yet have noone to get out with.

One hour ago I hastily scribbled down the last academic words I'll ever write in this year

One week ago I was seated in the green room, chilling, waiting patiently for our preview to begin, looking around idly, hoping to catch a glance of Andrew...

How much of that would I never go through again? And how much of that would I experience again; maybe once more, maybe a few more times, maybe countless more times?

Why do we have expectations only to be let down? Wouldn't we do so much better on the whole without expectations and assumptions? How about fear? Cowardice? What's the difference?

What would I do if I didn't fear??
I wouldn't be me