Sand and a distant star.

Sometimes after watching a play, no matter how good or entertaining it might have been, you don't immediately get the message that was meant to be put across. It can hit you very much later - like, say... the next day, the next evening, or over the next few days even. Like how "Sand and a Distant Star" did for me.

Even before watching the performance itself, I knew it would be good cos it was presented by the Taiwanese drama group which Xiaoyan-jie, Ah Liang and Ah Ya belonged to. The people in it already guaranteed the quality. So I thought, okay... I shall go watch it, and bought two tickets without initially having an intended person in mind (play-mate... got it? Haha). Well, in fact, not until the day before the performance itself.

Couldn't help but shed a tear at the ending, where the main character (played by Zhang Xiaoyan) was sobbing uncontrollably about the supposed abduction of her husband by aliens from another planet and having to face the reality of him not returning home for good (weird plot I know, but you have to watch the entire play to get the whole picture). It was a play very well done, I thought... though I didn't really think so initially. The ending was very open-ended, leaving you to decide for yourself if Xiaoyan-jie actually died in her sleep or followed her husband to the faraway planet, fictitiously named Penefere. How much more romantic can such a name get?!?

In this world that we live in, there exists two categories of time, of which one is always moving forward continuously, while the other stops short at the most significant moment of your life.

So few words, yet such a powerful message within.

I haven't found the most significant moment of my life yet. It may, ironically, be the moment I breathe my last.

X X X

"Coloured your hair?" you asked with a smile and then lightly patted me on the back of my head... so light I almost couldn't feel it. But I did.

Don't do that to me ever again, you hear me?

I'm warning you now.

Actually, it's not entirely about wanting to keep the ticket stub. It's the memories I want to hold on to. The memories that I can't bring myself to let go.


It's the dream, afraid of waking, that never takes the chance.

Bette Midler - The Rose.

First heard this song on French radio the very morning I arrived in Paris. Beautiful work.