the moon now in aquarius. a swivel, fixed. when i think aquarius i think of an expansion rooted deep in the ribs of this earth. i think of the water bearer, holding pouring. i forgot what i had wanted to say, but i know i want to say something. there are many constant threads thatContinue reading
https://open.spotify.com/embed/track/0rkKoFtgXTBSy8MLtwYPmc i wrote an entire resonant chunk but it didn’t save, and it feels like an exorcism. that perhaps those words weren’t supposed to be archived, materialised. this song, its lyrics… the words escape me now, only a really really complex tight knot of affect remains. the contours of a memory i typed with suchContinue reading
morning hazy with skin sensitive to every thread on my sheets and left arm aching. my body is fighting overtime now, with the second dose of hollow cells. i think it’s a fever, but i can’t be sure. this heat pooling under my right arm resting on a bolster, this throbbing slow in my head.Continue reading
for about two months now, since i’ve returned to singapore from taiwan, i’ve had drafts upon drafts of thoughts i’d wanted to post on this space. for about two months now, i kill those drafts or let them sit unseen because they didn’t feel enough. i’m sick of feeling like this world is inhabitable andContinue reading
for 薛丁格的貓【 Plant 】
— A persisting tension of death and life before Shrodinger lifts the flap of the box, an acceptance of unknown and stasis unbearably brimming. In these pandemic times, the decision to go forth in gathering people to witness your music is not to be taken lightly. Yet my experience of this set is only light,Continue reading “for 薛丁格的貓【 Plant 】”
For Linda, through grief’s iridescence
[CW: suicide] Dear Linda, it’s taken me some time to write this after finishing your book, Loss Adjustment. There were so many lingering thoughts and emotions that I had to let them sit, slowly untangling them from each other… Grief is something close to my heart, a little too close. It is precisely because ofContinue reading “For Linda, through grief’s iridescence”
Joyful Lacerations in La Mariposa Borracha (Preview)
Dear Patient X, I watched as you walk amidst the glimmer of confetti towards the stage, achingly slow, eyes bright. You are to be part of a troupe, performing. You are a dancer. No matter the IV drip trailing behind you, a ghost. No matter the green scrubs hanging loose by your shoulders. You areContinue reading “Joyful Lacerations in La Mariposa Borracha (Preview)”
