writing
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reflections. ————– this year has been one of the most life-changing ones for me. the old milestone which every singaporean son must conquer: the ever-dreaded national service, something that to me, seemed milder than the days spent in NPCC back in HCI. I thought this way even when my head was still bald, and my rank…
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He who has been stabbed leaves the gap open for necrosis. A pair of diving eyes minds it as they dance behind the yellow line. What irony, for the victim to play his own murderer. The train of thoughts leaves the station. “I tried to keep the knife away,” you still say; your hands grasp the handle.
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The daisies, as the days go by, shed their delicate skin: their white satin dresses. Piece by piece, it falls, back to the dirty soil: a burial.
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Put on your second-hand smile and beg for forgiveness. Karma comes, like a knife through water: it seeks you. A confession before a firing squad: inevitability, with your eyes wide open, to take it all, in. Accepting, receiving, you wait: for a punishment you think you deserve, for a crime you think you committed. Where…
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devote your life to the art of hate. devote your life to waste. solidify your anger into something tangible. something you can grasp, and pass on. suffice to say, let it go, let it all go away.
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Our love Is like the coffee mugs Left unwashed in the sink After a night of warm conversation. Our love: it’s like a corner, Folded in a book; Jutting out, of a stack of old newspapers. No, our love is a corner, gathering dust. No, our love is the cul-de-sac In the lives we had…
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The stones by the river- where we once sat, and dipped our feet, in the cooling stream- have been dry for a while. It makes me wonder if you were a dream. Wrote a lot of poems during training. No access to a computer yet, so I’ll post them when I finally return home. Found…
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I joined the site back in 2012 when I finally started posting my writing, no matter how good or bad online, and now, about 2 years exactly later, the website is shutting down. This website has been inextricably linked to many of my memories, both the good and the bad ones, over the past…
ugly stage 