053. in my life/the zephyr song.


Beatles or Red Hot Chili Peppers. Unsure. I need music that gets the emotional void that I happen to be in go away.

Last show. There, I said it. Last show with Moses and Caitlin and Rachel and Nate and Gerrish and Malinda and. And Trevor. I thought last year was hard. Hell, I’m wearing the wristband Demon gave me right now. But that was nothing. I was barely a techie. I was an onlooker with friends. Now, three shows. When I graduate, I’ll have done five Masterworks productions. Not a lot by some standards, but. To me. A lot. I wish I had done more.

I’d give an update on things. People who came up afterwards. Mistakes and things that went well. Amusements and breakdowns and everything in between.

Instead, I really wish I knew Thai. Surat sang. And the loose translation wasn’t poetry by any stretch, but the buttery-smooth sound of his voice, softly singing, left every word of ‘goodbye’ stretched in the air, beyond any barrier of language.

I want to forever remember the moment. The lives touched. I wish I could cry. I need this to hit me now. Last show. Else I’ll randomly break down a week later in a random class. I won’t force myself to cry. I won’t pretend. I will either sit there like a stone, or bawl. The latter sounds like more fun. This isn’t possible. But it is. It’ll come to me too, soon.
Last opening night. Last Denny’s race. Last cast party. Last poster. Not for me. But for those I love.

Thank god for wonderful underclassmen. I wouldn’t survive next year without them.


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