till today, i had forgotten how i much i loved long, lonely busrides home at night. till just now, i had forgotten how music can take me away to another place where everything makes sense, where pain is fully acknowledged and experienced but does not sting and does not need to be hidden, where i can celebrate the sacredness of my being and the essence of my soul.

some days, i go to the movies. i pay about $7-9 for a ticket and sit tight for 2.5 hours watching people laugh, cry, fight, make love, lose, win, sleep, eat, drive, hide, die, date, break up, dance, turn into a total mess, lose faith, kill, steal, watch tv, stare into space, pump petrol, dream, sigh, put on make up and comb their hair, only in different combinations. some days, i think, how my life seems to have jumped straight out of a movie, or did movies, as incredible and unrealistic as they seem, jump straight out of life itself? (well, the truman show illustrates this really well) i replay memories in the screen of my mind, which only i can see, these memories that i never dreamt i would one day have, and wonder that maybe, just maybe, people might actually pay $7-9 for this. but noone ever will, because noone will ever know. i wonder, will these memories die with me. these stories, these moments, will they just cease to exist? or did they die the moment they were born?

i attempted to begin writing a script for a movie two days ago after listening to my grandma recount snippets of her life to me. as she spoke, my mind was a giant projector. i added music and colour, visualised the characters, imagined how the scenes would connect between past and present and finally, the inevitable future. it started to look like the epic of the century up there and i was really serious about it. it wouldn't be for money, it would be a tribute to life and death, a tribute to memories, a tribute to humanity and its beauty, a tribute to amama. i didn't know what spurred me then (i don't just go writing scripts on a whim!) but i think it's the sudden desperation to grab all you can of what's left of those moments, and then, the memories, before you lose them forever. it suddenly hits you, you could lose it forever and you think that perhaps, just perhaps, you could just immortalise some part of it.

i should be sleeping. i did something stupid today. like one of those stupid girls in one of those stupid horror movies who stupidly walks straight into trouble and makes you feel like slapping her silly. or one of those stupid girls in one of those stupid chick flicks who can't see what's good infront of her and walks away from it and makes you feel like shaking her silly so she'll wake up her friggin' idea. sigh.

nobody said it was easy,
no one ever said it would be so hard.
oh take me back to the start.