This feels weird, as I stare across the dark room with nothing but the brightness of the laptop screen.

Photo by Nikita Kachanovsky on Unsplash


The Josh three years ago would snap into “elevator speech” mode, telling anyone within earshot of the accomplishments he had achieved. He would saunter over with eagle-eye confidence to whoever was the “brand of the week” so he can make that connection. He would motion over to whoever is responsible for the social gathering, hug them, give them a smooch and head on the next party. He was, if I do say so, the man about town.

Fast forward to this Josh. Blank paged. Staring at screen with nothing to write for a resume cover letter.

This is the Josh now.
Back in his parents house.
In Klang.

For those not in the know — and I have applauded myself for being able to condense this into a sentence — my grandfather slipped down the stairs one fine morning, terrifying us to the point of me suffering from a stroke, hypertension and all, and missed his death.

I can’t remember being at his funeral. Everyone tells me that they saw me yet I have no recollection. I obviously have more to say about my granddad but I will keep it for another post.

Right now, I just want everyone to know that this will take me sometime to treat, not cure, treat as everything will never return to what was.

I will write a more thorough post about the stroke.

For now, I go back to that dark room with nothing but the brightness of laptop screen, writing.

This was written in December of 2020.

Rediscovering life — one film at a time.