The Weather.

With the raindrops doing their

Classic tap dance numbers on the cruel cold glassy closed

Windows that portray reality as it is

And the howling of the wind mimics human loneliness

All hollow and substanceless

And appearing as quickly as it disappears into nothingness

As I sit by myself

Next to my neatly folded sheets and flattened pillows with

Stains of unspoken dreams and forgotten responsibilities

With a worn out dog-eared schedule book in my

Tired small hands so sick of washing dirty skin and comforting bruised egos

Overworking my mind with thoughts that

Should never occupy permanent brain space and should

Always be kept at bay and passing

Like the soulless grey rain clouds roaming the sad gradient sky

That spend all their lives suffocating the undying sun and pretending that

They are invincible.



At this point in time

Of this oddly-made match,

It is just so difficult

To not expect anything anymore.

And she thought to herself,

“Here we go again to the dead end.”

While he sat there thinking,

“Maybe this time it will be different.”

And they decided to be young and naive and

Hold on to the promise of the pot of gold at the end

Of this invisible rainbow of infatuation and hopeless romance.

(Book) The Bluets.

EPSON MFP imageIt is a poetry book that goes on and on and on. It illustrates multiple perspectives one can take in regards to personal growth, love and even a singular colour. Reading it was a pleasure and reminds me to look at things beyond skin deep.

This read written by Maggie Nelson pulls me into her life and just for a while, I enjoy her humanness, honesty and her intense love for the colour blue as well as everything in between.

I will just be sharing some of my favourite lines or parts from this book, and will probably do so for other reads as well, because I am really worried that my iPhone that is filled with such notes is going to die on me soon.

I really don’t want to lose all these words by individuals that have changed me in some way or another.


“Life is a train of moods like a string of beads, and as we pass through them they prove to be many-coloured lenses which paint the world their own hue, and each shows only what lies in its focus.” – Emerson.

Do not tell lies and do not do what you hate, for all things are manifest in the sight of heaven.

Like engraved sunbursts.

Cyanometer – he hoped to measure the blue of the sky.

Eventually you will have to give up this love. It has a morbid heart.

We cannot read the darkness. We cannot read it. It is a form of madness, albeit a common one, that we try.

How can I tell her that not trying has become the whole point, the whole plan?

It calms me to think of blue as the colour of death.

With/Out (2015).

zihan-pub-photo-2-credit-olivier-henry-milk-photographieFour pockets of spaces to choose from throughout the duration of the entire performance to immerse yourself in different ways and for you to feel entirely comfortable.

For me, I was constantly floating around between the four spaces but eventually settled in the black box towards the end for a closure of the performance and to listen to what Mr Paddy Chew has to say for that one night.


The Necessary Stage worked with Paddy Chew back in 1999 to stage a monologue titled Completely With/Out Character.  As the first person in Singapore to openly come out with his HIV-positive status, he performed and shared his personal experiences with the docu-theatre piece. In that same year, Chew passed on a couple of months after the production ended its run.

Taking on the topic of AIDS, HIV, ignorance as well as prejudice, this performance is still very much relevant today.

With/Out is an interpretation as well as a reconstruction of the 1999 production by Loo Zihan. With news articles, research pieces and the old programmes lying all around or on the walls, use of technology and selective performance re-enactments and a live voice actor to present Chew’s words, it was an all-encompassing work.

I started with the research as well as news articles before I went to the black box to watch video footages as well as photographs of Chew’s performance and life, then went on to float between the different areas. At first, I could not really settle in any space because it made me so emotional and I wanted to get away from the other audience members. Just for some space to think and feel what I was feeling. Eventually, I accepted my reactions to the piece and chose to embrace it and stay in the black box to complete the journey with Chew on screen.

His presence could be felt very strongly and he lives on in his words, his strength and his undying honesty.

This particular performance left a very big impact on me and it means something to me when the marginalised just simply keep trying to gain acceptance, understanding as well as the love that they truly deserve. Be it from everyone around them or just within themselves.

I am so awfully privileged to start the year with this powerful piece of work to remind me whI o I am as a person and what I want to stand for in life. Extremely thankful.

(It has been a week after experiencing this work, and typing about this still makes me tear.)

(Do not really know how to organise my thoughts for this work in a linear fashion because everything is linked. It is better for a conversation so, talk to me if you want to discuss it or share your thoughts. Totally open to that.)


Missing Youth.

I miss being all young and small and how stretching my tiny face into big shameless smiles was a habit.

While running around on trains like it was the biggest adventure of my life.

And my only mission would be to avoid all incoming giants and baggage.

I miss the time when all I had to worry about was if I had a plaster to stop the bleeding if I ever fall, because when you are young, plasters were magic and they solved everything and made things a whole lot better.

If only all problems can be solved by a simple plaster now and train rides were still as special as they were now.

Terra Incognita (2015).

production_09After sorting out the insane schedule and trying to make as many things work as possible, I finally started my M1 Singapore Fringe Festival experience this year with Pat Toh’s Terra Incognita last Thursday night.

Held at Esplanade Theatre Studio, the entire show was intimate, bare and personal. Focusing on the act of walking itself, the performance presented facts, stories and perspectives one can take towards walking.

For me, I liked how in depth the performance was and the way it was presented. With only videos of feet in different settings, a simple narrative, plain scrolls and walking, Pat Toh filled the space with accelerating rhythms of breath and escalating levels of raw emotion.

The experience was pretty enchanting and meditative for me. The layering of narrative, sounds, movements as well as use of multimedia kept me thinking, appreciating and understanding the work from beginning to end. I had many thoughts but I do not think I am ready to share them in such a semi-permanent space so I shall not.

Anyway, my favourite moment was definitely the bit of improvisation and an unexpected outburst of emotion from Toh. The mind and body were connected in that moment and it was filled with such an energy that was captivating and seldom experienced. It touched me, in some way, and I almost shed tears because of the feelings it was evoking within me. I am just really honoured to have been a part of that, even though I was just a mere audience member.

It is, indeed, the most poetic combination of storytelling and simplicity together with symbolism in each act, prop and presentation method.

It was a great start to January. So glad I made time (and money) for this.

(I have been so busy that I think I will have to try and be more concise with my thoughts about future shows. Afraid to stop writing because my current mediocre skills will diminish but probably will increase my stress levels if I keep writing long posts. Ugh. I need more time in my life.)

Isn’t It Funny?

Isn’t it funny how you can look at someone – so whole and strong and complete – and imagine all the past wounds reappearing on their delicate skin?

All the scars tattooed on their physical appearance and all the emotional hurt manifesting on the body?

Then you realise that they are not part of your imagination, but are real. You just missed them somehow when you first shook their hand or said hello.

And there is nothing you can really do to help them heal or realise that it is sometimes all in the mind and letting go is the best option?

Because you yourself is pretty much as fucked up and damaged too?

Well, I do.