Q

I. WILL. NOT. OD. ON. CAFFEINE. EVER AGAIN.

Last night was TERROR reincarnated, concentrated into 7 hours of consternation. Seriously it was the most fitful, distressing night I’ve had for AGES. K it happened back at Starbucks where I got a mocha frappe grande.. It’s just a freaking mocha frappe! But my system’s pretty sensitive to caffeine so I’ll usually get this weird lightheaded brain high, the level depending on the dosage. Usually Starbucks just makes me a little jittery and speak weird and hallucinate a little, nothing much. So, yeah it was like that yesterday, and with G as my witness I did go a bit bonkers. Also, bad bad idea to drink just as I’m about to write cause it came out as a huge mothersplash of randomness and it sounded as BONKERS as I was.

But it wore off, and Becky Gloria Xin and I managed to have dinner without combustion on anyone’s part. Later on Xin and I found our way into VCH to watch Emily of Emerald Hill, (hour half monologue by Margaret Chan and her Peranakan life). Surprisingly not STABMYEYESOUT worthy, considering the most horror inducing scripts I’ve ever done were by Stella Kon. But secretly I think it was Marg Chan’s portrayal that did not make it as painful as it would have. Mm, AND YES the two. gay. guys. touching. And I was all homg you’re gay you’re touching it’s so fascinating BUT PLEASE NOT HERE kthnxbai.

And then yes anyway I COULDN’T SLEEP. Which is pretty rare so FINALLY at about 1.30am I finally managed to somehow sleep I DON’T EVEN KNOW IF I CAN CALL IT SLEEPING PLSKLOL. It was like, I’ll have a random series of VERY. VIVID. DREAMS, with plotlines hollywood worthy and mothercore vivid and I’ll wake up and the whole time my brain will be going through this monologue in superspeed and spewing absolute nonsense.

Like, I’ll dream about being a ninja, then I’ll wake up and THIS is going through my head, I SWEAR:ohmygoddidijustdreamiwasaninjathatissocoolandwhatthehellthesamuraiswordsandthestardiscsbut
wherecanigettheminreallifeitslikesoimpossiblemaybetheyhaveitinfuckingorchardrdnahcan’tbeorchardhaslikesexshop
sandlikewtfhowdoievenknowthisyesimustgotoorchardsoonyesyeswithacrazymotheradogandholyshitiwantadogso
badlyamitalkingtomyselfyesiamnoshitstopyourescaringmewhatsthetimewhatthehellwhatsgoingonamideadamimad
ohgodohmanohgodohmanimgoingcrazyerthanialreadyamsomeonepleasehelpmeimgonnadieofinsanityohgod
ohman…

and this will go on until my brain shuts down and i’ll drift off into semi-consciousness and have another weirdass dream and i’ll wake up and have an hour long asylum worthy monologue to myself AND REPEAT. Like, at every hour interval? And ohmygatz it hasn’t worn off yet I’M GOING MAD.