until it all runs out.

since everyone’s going on about campfire, I’ll do it now (although it may be a bit late, better late than never).

to be honest from the very outset I had my doubts. ( A campfire with no fire? honestly, call it a campshow) AND it was our first ever gangshow. EVER.

and then there were the rehearsals. We messed around during most of them, played around and wasted our holidays away. It hit the school term and we wasted more time. Not to mention that on top of that actors had to learn the act AND the dance. talk about double burden.

it didn’t really seem like a big thing to us. it was a simple plot with a simple script and the lines were pretty standard. No big deal. (though the dance was kind of neat. and messy at the same time XD )

when final push came to shove, the combined rehearsal (actors/dancers+dancers+props+AV) was very sloppy. In fact, there wasn’t one complete rehearsal with everything settled in and everyone coming together cleanly. I was resigned to face a mediocre gangshow.

What I was not prepared to face however, was a memory that I will not forget (for a very long time to come). Somehow everything just clicked into place.EVERYTHING. and the glue that held it all together was the audience. Screaming, cheering, random comments from the crowd-all these we had never rehearsed with. And when they did come in, they drove us all to something that we never believed we could achieve.

It was perfect in our eyes (even the extreme breakdancing) and to quote laura’s blog

RI02, that was an amazing campfire.

I say we kind of outdid ourselves.

So here’s to the unknown hours of slogging in Sem Rooms, the sweat tears and lost dignity.

And it’s things like these that really drag all of us closer together because it is common.

I probably sound quite emotionless, but I guarantee you that I was veryvery high (in a skirt and a singlet). And during chinese today I was reliving the moments in my head.

(Oh and getting chased after by guides will be something I never forget either).

So as Wee Ping so aptly said in his wrapup email, with emotions and congratulations hand in hand,

In my memory, there has never been an 02 campfire where entire girl guide troops will hound 02 actors for a photo or anything. Rough guides do shake the darling butts of May.

and that is why I love scouts more than anything else in the world. because in the end we somehow always manage to pull through. together.

and feelings will be the death of me.

so don’t feel so much, don’t think so much and I’ll be safe.

having a major internal argument over religion.

With the history syllabus, I’ve been forced to requestion what I’ve never thought about all my life.

What do I believe in?

When it comes to gods, deities, the universe. What can be said for sure?

And the answer is nothing. It all is a matter of belief.

And that’s what’s nagging at me.

I’m afraid to believe in anything because it may be wrong. and I hate being wrong.

this ought to be bashed out in class. now it’s a one man civil war.

there goes my weekend. sunk under waves and waves of expectations, work and rehearsals. here comes the week, to be sunk by the monotony of the schedule.

yesterday while I was walking home, I watched the moon floating in the twilight sky. This morning, I stepped out of the door and watched the stars glow in their twinkling presence.

that isn’t a star-

why? -

it doesn’t twinkle

-Ansar.

it’s funny how no one looks up anymore. Either you’re rushing through life, hoping to make the next meeting, rushing for the next deadline, running to be the first in the queue. and then you’re looking down. too afraid to look at people in the eye, playing games on your iPhone, texting someone.

The beauty of the world lies above us, and that’s what we’re missing. what we’re looking for now is the beauty in ourselves.

perhaps one day we will forget the sky, for it will be beyond our tolerated range of vision.

perhaps one day we will forget the stars. (who needs stars when you have GPS anyway?)

perhaps one day we will forget, the rabbit who lives on the moon.

edit:

It’s been such a long time since I’ve finished a book in one sitting, it’s sad. There’s something about sad love stories that leave you with a bitter taste in your mouth. a tinge in your heart. a sort of sympathy for people who never existed, brought to life by the words on a page.

I have finally found why I love prose so much more than poetry. It’s the build up of emotion and attachment. so post-Eating Air, goodnight.