Notes from the Lilac Book

13th December
Sometimes words just don't express enough do they? No, they don't.

Perhaps silence speaks for itself.
Why do we even need the word 'silence' to describe the indescribable? Ironic ain't it?

Verbal Diarrhoea is shit.
Sorry, my eloquence has deserted me.
- Smitten, David Fuhrmann-Lim

"... very enthusiastic and dedicated, but not a very good stage actor..."
Will that be my epitaph?

17th December
How do you handle the responsibility where everything you say or do affects the people around you and the rest of the world?
It's all too much for me to handle.
But life moves on: life ends; and life begins, but Life goes on. You're just caught in it and swept up in the torrents of it, helpless and foundering. Only thing you can do is to try to learn and deal with it.

But why are we given this immense responsibility?

I'm just a girl in the world
- Just A Girl, No Doubt

What was this festival? What was this grand everlasting pageant to which there was no end, to which he had always, from his earliest childhood, been drawn and in which he could never take place? Every morning the same bright sun rises, every morning the same rainbow in the waterfall, every evening that highest snow mountain glows, with a flush of purple against the distant sky, every 'little fly that buzzes about him in the hot sunshine has its part in the chorus; knows its place, loves it and is happy.' Every blade of grass grows and is happy! Everything has its path, and everything knows its path, and with a song goes forth, and with a song returns. Only he knows nothing, and understands nothing, neither men nor sounds; he is outside it all, and an outcast.
- The Idiot, Fyodor Dostoevsky

It's all too much for me to handle.

18th December
How do you erase bits of your past that keep catching up with you? Every corner you turn; every conversation you have; everything thing you see... You can't let go, you never can... It's what they call 'emotional baggage' I guess, when you past catches up with you and won't leave you alone.

The whole beauty of theatre is that magic What If, where you leave your baggage in the wings and enter the fictitious world of someone else, where nothing matters because that's what it all is: fiction. For that brief moment in your life, as opposed to the rest of your life, you cease to exist, and your worries float away and nothing is of consequence. How perfect. And Stevie interjects in the background:

Like a fool I went and stayed too long
Now I'm wondering if your love's still strong
Ooh baby here I am
Signed sealed delivered I'm yours

And that time I went and said goodbye
Now I'm back and not ashamed to cry
Ooh baby here I am
Signed sealed delivered I'm yours

As opposed to being backstage, all in blacks, in the pitch darkness. You're left to spectate on the world that's being created before you, and you can do nothing but wonder... about you, about them, about what could have been you, and what was you...

It's all a saying, 'Ceteris Paribus'.
Because nothing ever stays the same, no matter how hard you try.