Spending my time slacking off, as usual. Different name, same person! At least this will encourage me to think instead of just drivel.
There's something about being in your own house that just makes productivity plunge to record new levels. A house is a home is a place of comfort, not a work cubicle or a desk. Makes me want to sleep/play more Final Fantasy/doodle/sleep/eat/sleep more than think or engage in the slow avalanche of books which is threatening to consume my desk/other desk/mahjong table-cum-desk.
The lights out are brighter
than any other lights
somehow cleaner, clearer, the colours
(Even if this is stage(d))
When the lights go out
The darkness it blends itself into
And more lonely.
I like stage lights. I wish I'd payed more attention during the time when I was able to learn about all these things; MXes and cycloramas and moving lights and washes and all of that other technical garble that turns into nothing but garble without the massive rigging and the control panels to back it all up.
Where have all my words gone? Somehow I feel tired, even if just a day ago I seemed to have so many things to say or do.
Backstage, In The Wings
Backstage, in the wings,
There is this metal wire mesh
Metal squares with square holes
Just large enough to put my fingers through
To play with before the next spotlight
In the silence and all the bustle around
I put my fingers through and tugged, gently,
The wire mesh beat out, and then went back in,
Enthralled, I did it again
It sounded like a heart.