i gave every ounce of soul i had left in me to theatre rice last weekend and architecture this past weekend and now i am just a spine and a shadow. i look forward to a week of simple poetry (i'm set to perform four times this week.) i tried writing tonight and once again i am taught that there is no trying in writing.

this is definately my last semester of theatre rice. i'd love to run another round of troupe but yeah, i got other priorities now. theatre rice has been good to me (and vice versa) and i'm glad that i'm leaving on a good note. i'll miss it like maddogs. next semester, we will fill the loudmouth asians project with a renewed strength of freestyle creativity and come together with our molotov tongues to french kiss (in theatre, poetry, music, and movie) and spit fireflies...

tonight, i want to plummet into my room so messy with papers, books, and old t-shirts, and dig through the dusty clutter until i find relief curled in a corner under a napkin. relief will be shy to speak to me but i will hum a lullaby about the chubby moon to her. she'll relent and cup my cheek with her transparent hand. "it's good to see you again," i'll think but won't say. she'll lean in close and her lip will almost touch my ear...

i have a present for you, she says, a set of eyelids so that you can close your eyes when you dream.