I am a rental flat. Where people come home to only when tired and has no other place to go. They don’t even call me home. I am just a place to spend the night, to soak the tiredness away from that body and to abandon by day.

I am a sun. That’s all I am. I give life that is taken for granted and blamed when the rebellious rain strikes. Too hot or too distant.

I am alone. And maybe that’s just how everyone is, too.

Used and useless.

When your feelings, your experiences and you become a minority. Honestly, nobody else cares.

And everyone thinks it is just your problem alone instead of asking how they can help or do better for you.

Because in the end, nobody cares about another person.

Always on the outside looking in.

The wrong gender. The wrong institution. The wrong crowd. The wrong behaviour. Wrong, wrong, wrong.


The written word. 

(September. Overdue. Been having conversations with myself over this but shelved it for another day. Also, my digital footprint is so traceable. I am wondering if I should be worried or not?) 

Looking back at all I have written, or vomited out, over the past year or so, I realised that I haven’t been writing much. In terms of like mediocre poetry or trying to be poetic. 

A lot of posts, at least those past March and after, are about me. 

It didn’t use to be like this. This casual blog is a space where I used to let loose and post up written texts and monologues and poetry. I am not published anyway, and I just wanted to keep it up so I don’t eventually lose touch with the language. 

But I guess this space has started to reflect the person behind the blog. Me. I write about whatever that occupies my mind at a certain point in time, my feelings that I find difficult to convey to another person and almost a therapy I can actually afford. 

(Yes, mental health care is crucial but also really expensive to engage and maintain.) 

I spent a while wondering if I should be apologetic to people that follow this blog since it started, and then discover that it has evolved or maybe grown into a weird imbalanced mix of personal and hobby. 

It is my own space, in a way, but I am also largely aware of people that follow. So I am sorry that it has come to this, and my emotions are all running away from me at this point and my arms aren’t long enough to catch them and place them back into my pocket. 

I also contemplated deleting this blog altogether, for fear of judgment since I have been pouring so much out here and I actually have no idea how many people engage with this space. And then see me from a new light. 

But why am I so easily ashamed of my feelings and feeling so much? I am a contradiction but I doubt I will change. 

But I am starting to slowly find my way back to writing and thinking in words I used to love so much. So maybe, all these past posts have helped. Maybe also because I am finally ending this phase of my life to begin again. 

Thank you for your patience and silent presence. Perhaps I will grow this space back into what it was like before. xx

Rain, September. 

The sky cries softly 

Never a sound before hitting the ground 

Its silent surrender 

Accompanied by lightning and thunder 

Seldom alone 

For its every visit 

Awakens the hollow shell of living 

And we learn to look to the sky once more 

To wash to clean to believe that 

There is a god or we are 

More than just drowning 

Describe a Typical Day. 

Eyes open 

Thinking with eyes open 

Alarm sounds 

Shut it off 

Lie on your back

Listen to the fan blowing 

Get up only after half an hour

Freshen up change fill water bottle 

Leave home lock door let habit lead 

Walk stop walk walk walk walk 

Wait at the bus stop 10minutes away

Board bus 

Plug in music to shut out

Train squeeze hug myself keep feet together try to breathe no physical contact small space 

Tap out and walk 

Straighten back and try to walk in a relaxed manner 

Steady rhythm 

Slow down and up the hill 

Walk through gates 

– day stops – 

Leave gates 

Walk back the way I came

New feelings same many things 

Go home 

Shower and freshen up 

Desk work and concentrate on distractions

Try to sleep 

Eyes closed

Thinking with closed eyes


Where do you stand 

Loving both men and women in 

Equal measure for their similarities 

Skeleton skin sins

Differences only in curves gender politics and bias

When you belong to neither straight nor 

Days of being closeted and no bravery story

Or do you just sit in an isolated yellow box 

Pretending to disappear with every puff 

Smoke snaking up into the sky 

Like wishes unmade and justifications you should have said 

Before going back into bed to dream the same dreams again