I wrote something for someone’s project. That was three years ago and I stumbled on it again today. Do have a look, flip to page 13, and you’ll see a familiar story.
Funny thing is, the sentiments and circumstances I shared in that story hasn’t changed one bit. Except that I’m older, not necessarily wiser.
What we want
is never simple.
We move among the things
we thought we wanted:
a face, a room, an open book
and these things bear our names—
now they want us.
But what we want appears
in dreams, wearing disguises.
We fall past,
holding out our arms
and in the morning
our arms ache.
We don’t remember the dream,
but the dream remembers us,
It is there all day
as an animal is there
under the table,
as the stars are there
even in full sun.
Head over the edge of the bed,
ankles crossed and
upside down,this is how I talk to you.
Yesterday
we were on the phone for
what felt like hours even though
when I checked the duration
of the call later on,it ended up
being only 42 minutes.42 minutes of laughing
and comfortable silences
and you telling me about your
day and me telling you about mineand 42 minutes of the sound of
your voice, its inflections and rhythms,
all lovely soft and new,and even though we’d both admitted
to not being ‘phone people’
there we were like we did this
every day.I knew we had no hope
when you told me you weren’t
really into holidays
but still I felt my chest
become an icebox whenher name was brought up,
and you said things were getting
serious and the difference in age startled you,
made you a little anxiousand I said nothing
and I wonder if that in itself
said everything.You said her name again and
the blood was rushing to my head
and suddenly I wasn’t a holiday person
either,I wanted April showers and May flowers—
I wanted a spring thaw,
a pooling of water in my chest,
a drowning,
a baptism.
If someone disappoints you over and over, that’s in large part your own fault. Once someone has shown a tendency to be self-centered, you need to recognize that and take care of yourself; people aren’t going to change simply because you want them to.
The only optimism I could muster in such crazy days of work is…
“You know what, yesterday wasn’t so bad! It’s actually better than today.”
I laugh a lot these days, coupled with talking out loud and speed walking. I feel like I have to do things at a fast-forward kind of pace, sort of like watching movies on VHS tapes and then someone accidentally sits on the remote control and everything goes into a blur.
If I could get $5 for every person to ask me if I’m buzzed, I would have enough to pay for my cab ride home. FYI, I live far out North in Singapore’s hillbillies so cab fares are ridiculously expensive. And of course I would say I’m not, because who drinks during work hours except at 5pm when you’re looking at that glass of bubbly telling yourself that the end is near, which most of the time is not.
I digress.
Back to my giddiness and seeming out pour of energy; it isn’t because I’m drinking or any of that sort. When I laugh out loud like a 12-year old being told a dirty joke, it’s not because I’m ecstatic. You know that point where you’re so busy you feel like you’re going to go into spontaneous combustion? I’m beyond that point. Way beyond it that the only reaction I can do is laugh at the situation I’m in. Because really, the only way to get through these hell weeks is laughing even if it’s the nervous kind.
Remember progress comes with a cost. Just like everyone else, we content people must kill some of our darlings to move forward.
Last night I was in front of the computer typing away what was a rather easy topic. I began with a few sentences, hit the backspace key and reworded some of it. Then I selected all the text, hit ‘delete’ and started over. This happened, maybe five more times, before I finally settled into the kind of opening statement that I was happy with. In brief, I spent a good hour and a half trying to write something that ended up to be only seven sentences.
With a whole site of content to put together before its launch in October (no exact dates yet, maybe Halloween) it just hit me hard that I am playing a whole new ballgame altogether. I suspect a lot of sleepless nights, occasional self-pity, and empty coffee cups after all this is done. Hopefully when I do emerge at the end of the long, dark tunnel, I would have it in me to dive right back in because this road I’m taking isn’t a short one. So hopefully along the way I’d get me some ‘less anxiety’ and more self-assurance, and perhaps a better grasp at penning my thoughts down.
I think the world deserves to know how awesome W3LL PEOPLE are. Even more so the people who use them.
The other day I bought myself a can opener and I couldn’t believe how excited I was about the whole prospect of owning one. A can opener! How incredulously domesticated it felt—searching through the kitchen section of Tangs to find one—but it was also, however, incredibly liberating.
Two weeks ago when I was making myself some pasta sauce I realize I had tin cans all lined up in front of me. I was dumbfounded to find out that the only semblance of a can opener lying around the house was, well…let’s just say it wasn’t a very pleasant experience. I had to put all my weight and energy into opening a single tin can. That multiplied by four and it was my week’s worth of strength training.
So we’ll ignore the part that maybe I have lousy upper body strength and suck it up to the fact that I have taken for granted the pleasant joys of opening a can all without breaking a sweat.
As a new owner of a can opener I have but one request: if anyone needs any cans opened, you know who to call. Let’s take this one for a spin!
There’s a possibility that a person can get attracted to another. It’s human nature. It’s not wrong. But that is why you’re in a commitment. You discipline yourself. One may get attracted to numerous prospects and it’s okay. As long as you don’t nurse the feeling and do something about it. Borderline between cheating and faithfulness. Recognize reality that you already have the person that can give you more than what you get from the cheap thrill of attraction.
I was always hungry for love. Just once, I wanted to know what it was like to get my fill of it — to be fed so much love I couldn’t take any more. Just once.
“I can’t help but wonder whether all this histrionic exhaustion isn’t a way of covering up the fact that most of what we do doesn’t matter.”
I had this notion that we don’t really need a full work week of five days, that if given the opportunity, I bet we could all have three-day work weeks. I mean you don’t spend eight hours every day working, you’re just at the office eight hours every day. There will be days where only six hours of your time (or even less) is needed to get the job done and the rest gets blurred with the notion of “being busy” when in fact we’re just waiting for that alarm bell that signals we can leave for the day. Wouldn’t it be good for everyone else if we are able to be more productive and efficient at work and the freed up time gives us the opportunity to do what we want to do outside of it?
“Fairness is about being able to love who I want, whoever I want, regardless of their size, gender, race or whatever without being judged.” – Kiyomi Shimizu
If you can sustain your interest in what you’re doing, you’re an extremely fortunate person. What you see very frequently in people’s professional lives, and perhaps in their emotional life as well, is that they lose interest in the third act. You sort of get tired, and indifferent, and, sometimes, defensive. And you kind of lose your capacity for astonishment — and that’s a great loss, because the world is a very astonishing place.
What I feel fortunate about is that I’m still astonished, that things still amaze me. And I think that’s the great benefit of being in the arts, where the possibility for learning never disappears, where you basically have to admit you never learn it.
They say the beginning of a lasting friendship starts with a good sandwich. So on a bright Sunday afternoon, we did just that. I don’t suppose we were on to something then but it does have the makings of becoming something great.
One of the many problems has to do with the speed of light and the difficulties involved in trying to exceed it. You can’t. Nothing travels faster than the speed of light with the possible exception of bad news, which obeys its own special laws.
Storytelling. That is my key talent. I help brands tell the stories that matter most to them as well as the communities they have built, are building and are hoping to build around them. As a PR executive, my strength lies in connecting those stories with the right people and with the right platform to meet the main objectives.
At present, I'm pushing forward to give content its rightful place—at the very beginning and as a crucial piece in every strategic intent. With many businesses looking to find their place in digital, exploring ways to contribute to the conversations on social media, content becomes all the more important. This is not a new way of thinking. Content has, and always will be, king and it's time we stop ignoring it.