28 December 2017. Eight or nine years on, I stand face to face with the perpetrator. “Do you remember the session we had with Ms Foo, when you told her you woke up outside of IMH and walked in?” I asked. “Yes.” “What happened after you entered IMH?” I remember, of course. You claimed to… Continue reading
Driftwood. Scorching heat of the sun. Vast, endless sea. I’m bobbing up and down quietly, listening to the waves lap against me. Ships yawn a long, low groan, and I realise that even though they’re dry and hollow, they’re not in want. Probably because they know to keep things casual. They’re listless, but they know… Continue reading Let me settle down already.
trying not to be seduced by your one of a kind ness i can hear the quiver in your voice even before you speak emotion contagion how to contain all the warmth i have for you? or are they already spilling like a cascade of marbles collecting at your feet while your own crystal beads… Continue reading ‘/
cling wrap around my skin. stay dry – even blood runs like water here. cling wrap, like i’m preserving this body flesh to be kept fresh for another day when it’s ready, just not today cling wrap must be the reason his touch no longer electrifies the reason i can put myself face… Continue reading waterproof
Writing Exercise 1 for Words Of My Body (WOMB) – an acting workshop at HCAC. Prem Do you remember when we used to hang out almost every day after school? We’d play these educational computer games — there was this chameleon one that taught us how to spell, the tongue would extend and reach for… Continue reading Do You Remember?
This was written for a devised theatre workshop that I’ll be attending this Friday. My teacher told me about ether once. He said it was the substance that embodied the universe, a backdrop against which all other objects took their bearings. I remember thinking how comforting this must be, to know your place in… Continue reading Words Of My Body
For the one that has been with me every day and night of my existence, here is a letter to you. We haven’t had it easy since we hit 15. Maybe 13, if we were being completely honest about secondary school. 12, if we count the days of running away from home and playing truancy… Continue reading Dear Brain,