It’s one of those old hurts. A moon-shaped crevice dug into the skin, a bit lumpy and scarred over in dark pigment. It is mostly dormant. But on the occasion that it is awakened, the hurt is just that: occasional. It is the hurt of a light scratch over a an old scar. A surprise graze, brushing past the corner of a table, making an … Continue reading an old hurt
dear me, you are worthy. not you can be. not you could be, if… you are. because you are kind, trustworthy, loyal, friendly, patient, empathetic, loving, genuine, authentic, compassionate, a good listener, helpful, considerate, intelligent, thoughtful, a change-maker, god-fearing. you care about the people you love and want them to be ok. you are non-confrontational, sometimes soft spoken, understated. easygoing, calm, collected, flexible, go with … Continue reading dear me: a love letter
My mother was a pianist once. She lived alone on the second floor of a grey apartment building in a small suburb of Seoul, just out of the city, because it was all she could afford. She didn’t have very much – just a few childhood memories packed into boxes: a gold picture frame with a yellowing photo of her parents on their wedding day, … Continue reading the pianist
Living in an affluent part of Sydney that can be aptly described as a “bubble” – an insular community of the wealthy, the ambitious, the connected, the upper class, I can only explain myself as feeling stuck in a grey space. I feel trapped. There is a never-ending internal conflict between the values that surround me – the ones I’ve internalised from 17 years of … Continue reading an honest reflection.
The pages floated peacefully in the breeze. An opaque white wind gliding against a backdrop of lush trees. A harmonious antithesis – different, but at the end of it all, fundamentally the same. For they both held secrets kept by the heart, silently pulsing with unshared life and knowledge, glowing with the promise of the truth. They held the beauty of the journey – the … Continue reading words and trees
The cup was yours this morning. It’s funny how it’s yours one day and mine the next. Coffee and tea, tea and coffee. A small clay creation – a model of those little white porcelain ones you get with your jasmine tea at a yum cha. But this one is different. Misshaped and glazed with an array of colours that don’t go well together. The … Continue reading where’s the coffee?
Do you ever feel alone? Just lonely. And still, cocooned by the chatter and the noise and the laughter. But disjointed, disconnected. People. Like weak magnets drawn together by nothing but an arbitrary, imaginary force. Perhaps the most significant imaginary force to ever believe in. But still, inevitably, we are separate. Our worlds unshared, unknown, untouched. Do we share them? Some magnets … Continue reading alone
A thick mist hung on the waistline of the earth, that place where the clouds meet the waves that seem to roll of the edge of the planet. Beneath it a purple haze stained the sky, a halo embracing the sleepy mountains, mingling with the wet blue glow of the valley. Motionless. And I wondered how it could be, even as the earth lurched away … Continue reading purple mist
It rises and falls like the tide on the sand A weight of black steel pressing down Strangling, drowning And my heart treads the water, but it’s too much to ask I’ve sunk into a slumber And there is no awakening. Continue reading asleep
When I was little, I had this houseplant that sat on a shelf in my house above the mantlepiece. It was dark green with these huge elephant-ears that spread across the marble, like legs. I was right near obsessed with that Ficus. I’d sit there just about any time I got looking at it – the waxy fiddle leaves and little veiny webs that weaved … Continue reading ficus