Diary entry #650192

There are two lines repeatedly crystallizing in my mind: one comes from the famous Oscar speech delivered by Matthew McConaughey, when he won Best Actor for his role as a homophobic electrician abruptly diagnosed with HIV in the film Dallas Buyers Club in 2013. Among the three things he needs, he says, it’s essential to “have something to chase.” The other line in my head comes from a pivotal song in the musical Hamilton—a line I didn’t think much of till I started to connect the dots between McConaughey’s lauding pronouncement to always chase the person you are ten, twenty, fifty years from present-day: “For the first time, I’m thinking past tomorrow,” says Hamilton.

Being a writer—”by definition”—who knows how a reader will conceive this association? Both of us, we’ve gone so unforgiving. The two lines dabble in the brainspace positioned externally on the back of my head, mechanical wind from a fan is directly grazing, which feels slightly below the area I imagine (if only to quell this contemplation) someone’s hand is now resting. Three options makeshift an interpretation: a) Warmth, but easy for you to say. b) How awkward would this be in real life? c) Do not clutch too hard, my dear. The body and blood—”the guts” by definition— will err out of my eyes and spill.

I look after myself properly. I’m a pilgrim past tomorrow.


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