http://cargocollective.com/madebyal#2572835/Lisia
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Lisia et Lisia, that means I got my roll back from the lab.
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Enlightened, then I’ll be off. Today has been a good day.
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Here I am, sitting in a red comfortable chair at midnight, trying to come up with something.
It’s the end of an era this coming Saturday — Poets Passport’s last session of the year — but more importantly, the final session for most of the members of the organizing committee. Most of us have graduated. Some leaving Malaysia for good.
There’s this written rule that all out-going crew members must recite something come Saturday, which brings me back to the beginning…
Here I am, sitting in a red comfortable chair at midnight, trying to come up with something.
The session is appropriately titled “At World’s End” — so, any ideas?
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Lisia, Saturday before the Sunday.
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11 AM, Sunday morning.
The big wooden door is closed — it never is — but I’ve made it all the way up to the 24th floor I might as well see if it’s actually locked.
I flash my card at the glass door and it swings open. One, two, three steps; I put my hand on the handle of the big wooden door and pray.
I close my eyes and turn.
Voila. I’m in!
Easy peasy lemon — BEEP! BEEP!! BEEP!!!
ohfucknogodplease!
* * * * *
About a month ago, Gaj and I were stopped by cops around two in the morning somewhere in Subang. I had my student ID but no passport, and the cop threatened to lock me up.
“My passport is with the school…” I kept telling him, or at least tried to, but the man wouldn’t listen to reason.
“I’ll call your school and confirm on Monday,” he kept on saying. “But till then, I’ll have to lock you up.”
Gaj told him that he can’t do that. This isn’t that big of a deal. My status could easily be checked online.
“You think you know my job better than me? When you people come to Malaysia you have to respect Malaysian laws.”
But we are.
“Are you saying I’m wrong? You think you know Malaysian law better than me?”
* * * * *
And there I am, standing all alone in the middle of the office on a Sunday morning, security alarm sounding all around me like applause.
My phone is dead, I can’t call any of my colleagues.
Helpless.
Disoriented.
I sit down.
In a few minutes, the police are going to blast through the door and they’re going to see me sitting there. Because I’m new, I’m still using the temporary employee card, so my face isn’t on the ID.
And I don’t have my old student card.
In a few minutes, the po-po are gonna come blasting through this door and they’ll see this black kid all alone and voila. There’ll be no investigation. No questions asked. They’re just gonna hit me over the head with a baton and next thing I know, I’ll wake up in the Mariah.
Again, and I’ll wake up in a cell.
Case closed. Have a smoke. What’s for dinner?
So there I am, sitting all alone in the office on a Sunday morning, security alarm blasting all around me — and the door swings open.
This is the Sunday after my Saturday with Lisia, and I’m really really glad that the person who walked through that door was someone I know; anyone else, and I’d be writing a totally different story right now — if any at all.
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The last one before I go to bed.
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Lisia, parking lot.
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A whole lotta stuff happened in past few weeks. I finished school, for one. That was a relief. We wrapped principal photography on 3 CREDITS. Awesome. And I moved into a new apartment — finally!
Remember that one time I made a video cover letter for a “real job”? Well, I got that too :)
Those things are why there’s been little to no updates here; those, and also because I was demoralized and had no one to shoot and other things.
Lisia here came over this weekend and changed all that.
Well, mostly.
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