Mosquitoes hover and bite. scratches myself to consciousness. i checks my phone, it’s 4am. and being a member of the gen-y internet junkidom, i turn on my laptop and go online. seeking ‘virtual’ company.
my 10 years old t-shirt clung to my body in sweat. time like this makes me wish for air-cond, but i don’t want to depend on it, i don’t want to perpetuate this onslaught to nature, but most of all, i can’t afford it.
june is here, i have workshops to run all the weekend. but july, july’s calender is still empty, except for a very dear friend’s wedding, july looks like a desert with no oasis. i am getting jumpy. i need work. actually, i just need roof over my head and food on the table. for that, i need money and for that i need work that pays.
what kind of work can one get when people know you as activist who makes films?
maybe a clean slate is what i need, someplace that i am not yet known, someplace to begin anew, to reinvent myself. Mien, the winemaker. that has a nice ring to it yes?
ah but nothing, nothing can take away love. nothing compares to filmmaking. if only it can bring food to the table. something mother has prophesied 10 years ago. let’s give it another 10 years, it is not like i have any other thing to live for. then, then we’ll see if i would have to divorce this vocation.
rice or coconut wine?