Fortissimo

Some people just know talents when they see it. And they treasure that person's very life and soul, and love him for what he's worth, and urge him to go! Go for your dreams!

Obviously my parents aren't even close.

Now let's get this straight. Talent, as far as this post goes, does not point to prodigial, Professor Isaac Lean sort of talent. That is all very well, and yes you'd be an idiot not to love and want that, but no. I don't mean that.
What my definition of talent is, as far as this post goes, once again, is something you discover in yourself, an art or a science you find yourself to be good at. Bryan's talent is singing. Marcus's talent is basketball. Bertrand's talent is arguing (debating doesn't emcompass all aspects of his talent). Mok's talent is... well anyway... That one thing that makes you happy, contented, satisfied, to do it.

Now you (most of you) know I like stage. Whether or not I act well, whether or not I am really good at advising people on how to act, is another issue. The cold hard fact is that I like acting. And now? I'm not even squeezing my way into a role in a play, merely attending rehearsals to give however many cents worth my comments are.

And these two indifferent people who claim to know me inside out can ask questions like 'You're already going for the performance, why attend rehearsals?'. Pretending not to understand the simple difference between rehearsal and performance? Making me explain to them? And then laughing their sorry asses off and asking, 'Are you sure they want you or not?' Humiliating remarks like 'You're just an intruding outsider lah.' And as if that's not bloody enough they pretend that nothing ever happened minutes after that, giving me useful tidbits of information. 'That song, Renhao. S'called "Kung-Fu Fighting."' And when I refuse to talk to them, instead of keeping quiet, much less apologizing, dear Mother says, 'Aiyah, Renhao mooooo-dy today lah. Having PMS lah. Hurhurr.' And they start laughing and snorting like screwed-up fucktards.

It's just so embarrassing. I have to actually rely on my relative's support end encouragement. Otherwise I would have just flung drama aside, and forced myself into this miserable, drab life of stiff routine. Even though God has been gracious enough to provide pillars of support for me, it's still emabarrassing. Like running to your neighbour's house to stay for a few days while your lightning-struck, bomb-blasted house is getting repaired. Utterly disgusting and embarrassing, and humiliating.

Only God can touch their hearts now, to awaken them to the truth. And God help them. Meanwhile I shall give them a snotty face everytime we meet.