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The Dangers of Seeing Your Dreams in Reality

(18 Days to Arashi Blast in Hawaii)

So, destiny has spoken. I'll be going to Hawaii. I'll be seeing Arashi in the flesh. だって、嵐が好きです. The world has conspired. I was fated to go.  運命です

Or Destiny picked Jannie to go, and I’m just her “guest”. She got the tickets. Because raffles and lotteries are not in my luck distribution.

If only the days would run faster. While the entire world feel the speed of the earth's rotation, these are the slowest 2 weeks for the 18,000(?) people going to Hawaii.

And yet …

CONFESSION: I am, without a doubt, terrified of going to this concert.

I’m a little bipolar (self-declared, no diagnosis), hence my feelings are a little mixed up. On one hand, I’m hella excited. My co-workers tell me everyday how bright and sun shiny my disposition are these days. On the other hand, I’m thinking--going would shatter all my illusions and delusions, and leave me disillusioned.

See, this is the one band have day dreamed the most. Obviously, they are the ones I had hoped--actually, continuously hoping--to be acquainted with. I wasn’t even like this with the Eraserheads, and I was 15 back then. I wasn’t even like this with L’arc~en~Ciel -- even though Hyde is still husband #1 in my Eastern harem house (long story, best left for another day...or entry).

As you can see--I have already deluded myself into thinking this concert is Fate. Destiny. 運命.  Just because my life has gone through this unnatural progression--with which my head has concluded--is leading somewhere or something Japanese. More specifically, something Arashi.

What will become of me after this? Would I yearn for more Arashi? Would I finally graduate from Arashi? Would I finally completely go crazy? Or, worst--I bring home no feelings at all?

Tried and succeeded. Then failed the next day
On an entirely different, yet somewhat related matter--I’m making a some changes to my promises. The past week, I had a test run for most of the promises. I tried writing a short story or short movie screenplay for most of the week, and I ended up starting four new stories. Organizing my thoughts isn’t as easy as I thought it would be. I tried revising an old short story, ended up creating three different versions.

But I had surprisingly made a discovery. It takes me three hours to write 500 words. It’s a far cry from my record of 3,000 words in 5 hours, but that was in 2001, and that expository piece was my last chance not to flunk the course.

So Instead of “I promise to write a short story and/or a short script every month from here on.” -- it’s now “I promise to write 500 words every other day until the 19th of September. And then, 500 words a day, after the 22nd of September.”

I was discussing the exercise clause with some of my friends Adette & Claire. Proving I did the daily exercise had become a problem. So for now, I’m putting this one on hold. Hopefully, by the end of the week (or the next blog) I’d be able to present a solution or an amendment.

By the way, I’m done with the sequence treatment of “How To Love Better,” and I’m hoping to finish the actual story board before the 19th. I have 18 days left. And has now exceeded my 500 word quota.

Happy Labor Day, everyone!

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