I can't get sleep now.

Well, it isn't the first time this has happened.

Someone in a distant past remembers this dialogue.

In my past.

I thought I'd grown a spine through my time alone. Opinions and thoughts that were now stronger and more justified than before because they were always verifiable truths that I knew as a fact. A truth is really an opinion. And opinions are mini-truths about something until there is a majority - then it grows into a fact. But even facts are flawed. Still as gutless and brainless as ever. Yet I wouldn't deny this or demand that I be somewhere else.


You asked if I'd blog about you. Here's the answer.

On my birthday, I met a stranger. A couple of people whose names I knew and never thought would get to know better. Because on my birthday, I was at auditions. To Army Daze, which I'd go on to get through then get pulled out. (long story for another day). I meet her. A short conversation about people dancing. No more than 5 lines flies between us. Goodbye for the day. Disappear for the weekend. Facebook. Add new friends. Say thanks. Message. Get number. Dinner. Find out about mutual friends.

Fuck.

I like her. I honestly do. I haven't fallen so hard for anyone so quickly before. It is all quite a bit to take in. Work/life/romance separation. It is tough. I am bad with handling those situations. Then you have nosey parkers who impose their opinions on your relationships by spreading over exaggerated versions of what they see. I wanna avoid that. I don't need this to affect other friendships that are on the rocks too. I am honestly insecure, can't hide that anymore I suppose. I'm still rather spineless. Need to man up eh? But any other group of friends, separate from nosey parkers - I'll be proud of it, honest.

Someone told me. "Rules are meant to be broken." I have broken the rule between us, I'm not sorry about it. I'm only human after all.

It is amazing what children can do.

It is unbelievable what adults will do to children.

Disciplining a child. That asian context and undertone to it. To hear a father yell at a child from 5 floors above is quite a scene. Yet we all turn a blind eye and take it as it is. A parent disciplining their child. It is the way Singaporean Chinese parents do it - nothing wrong there, just take it as it comes. Peripheral. That's what it is. Peripheral problems.

Now, as a child - I made an oath. To never raise my hand or use force on another child. I have broken that oath several times, and I wondered why I had to. To use force against a child, who is clearly underpowered is to exploit and abuse the physical power as an adult. I've never believed that a child who speaks wittily about others really means malice or disrespect. It is a perspective that the individual child holds. A true opinion. Which will be taken and schooled until it is socially acceptable. That's what is right, right?

Isn't a child meant to be creative? Yet adults would readily say - nothing that comes out of that child's mouth is useful. And my favourite quote from my boss. "The child's voice has no purpose until it is silenced and taught what to say." Quickly disregarding any possibility that a child could be a critical thinker at his/her age. That things have to be taught for the child to create anything of meaning. Why are we, as adults so ready to put down a child once our insecurities are unknowingly trodded upon by a child.

I guess my real point of writing this whole thing is that as a young adult looking back - my opinions on how to discipline a child has changed. But there is no time for dialogue is there. Never is time for things that really matter.

I am clear that I have doubt. That's my sole clarity.

Graduation was today. I'm now a graduate, with a diploma - supposedly ready to face the world and its challenges. I don't have it all together. Far from it. At this point in time, I think I'm just about ready to fuck it all up. Again. It is a vicious pattern, a deadly cycle. But I don't have the courage. Or the confidence to walk tall, to say "I know my worth, whatever you say." I'm tired of being clever, it is my biggest downfall - yet I'm so inclined to be so that I naturally find myself trying to be "cleverer" than others and shooting myself in the foot. Fuck. There is no yardstick to measure a man's worth, is there? Any given measure of a man is never constant, because a man is dynamic and grows by the millisecond.

Twelfth Night is over. Young Co. is almost coming to an end. I'm starting to be plagued by a realization that I can't act. Or I can, but I'm fucking bad at it. I don't know where to start. I used to play make believe, but that's not good enough anymore. I'm getting really bothered by the ideas behind all this acting business - all the Stanislavski, Brecht, Grotowski, Peter Brooks & Strassberg. I'm left with too much "literature" and not enough soul. I fear I cannot act. I fear that I will lose the one possible talent I have - then slide into middle class, moving to middle age and working in a middle range job. The middle is a scary place. It is festering with souls of those who have lost their dreams. Zombies, if you will, and they scheme. Scheming scares me.

I am an emotional wreck. Work. Work. Work. Play. Work. Sleep. There is so much I could be doing, yet I'm stuck writing cover letters and lesson plans. Fatigue is beyond me - it takes me for company the moment I get a seat on a train or chair. Now it is after me.

Adieu to better times.