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
Fiction is helplessly entangled with truth of some kind. Much in the same way that Orson Scott Card believes the reader takes in the fictitious material and constructs something in his mind such that he connects with it, identifies with it. And in that sense, fiction becomes reality for everyone, although everyone has different realities.… Continue reading When Love Arrived.
These eyes are haunting. I can’t bear to look at them in the mirror. There’s something… off, about them.They’re like bottomless wells, and those who venture too close run the risk of falling in, never to find a way out. All the light that tries to illuminate its depths inevitably get sucked into its thick,… Continue reading Metaphors for Amor.
28 January 2017. The day for resurrection has come. Yesterday night, a beast was clawing its way out of my chest. It sunk its teeth into my windpipe as I tried to bury it under more layers of I don’t care and This should not and will not affect me and I am stronger than… Continue reading The Giving Tree.
Believe me when I say I have your face seared into memory. Of all I love this expression the most It conveys Peace, and some sort of trust Like the look of acceptance on a crow before life is wrung from its throat. And for once, I know you’re telling the truth. Tell me again… Continue reading Two-faced.