Poetry

sharper & stronger

Some images
are sharper
with more grain

Some portraits
look clearer
with a bit of blur

Some exposures
are darker
than your days

Some hearts
are stronger
than they were

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Poetry

the trickiest

Among all the stares I know

The lustful look is the trickiest

You pass by each other at work

Then all eyes are under arrest

Across the room full of adults

Our presence craves connection

If we are locked inside four walls

Bodies will be inseparable til dawn

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Poetry

dormant feelings

Time will lead you back
to old conversations
long interpreted
to forced messages
accidentally deleted
to sweet words
never expressed.

Vaguely asking questions:
has the heart healed
is the love still there
did the pain go away
are feelings just dormant?

I hope in your mind the answers land.

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Photography

keep film alive

Film is not dead and it will never die. Old souls will always emerge and in every generation, a fraction will keep them alive.

Photo Challenge: Unusual

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Photography

#thestrangehertravels

Upon looking at my travel albums, I realized I wasn’t able to put the pictures much into use. And when my two crazy-silly-helpful friends listed down the places I’ve been to last year, they jokingly cursed at me for not blogging travel guides. They said it’s not too late to do so but I retorted that’s not really my thing. So instead of guides, I’m just gonna be publishing photo essays instead.

Now, don’t expect too much from the photos I’ll put out as I’m an amateur when it comes to photography (with some pictures grabbed from my friends), but I hope they could somehow translate the feelings and emotions I’ve felt during my travels, which are all good.

This photo essay project from my 2016 travels will be aptly called #thestrangehertravels and through the following weeks I’ll be uploading them, maybe every Friday. Though the photo essay will probably carry on in this blog for all my travels. And so is the hashtag. Wink

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Bitter

a gallery 

The beautiful creaking sound of the wooden floor as I carefully tread the empty gallery is satisfying.

It was a territory I have always been familiar with—my well-planned steps on the way to your heart.

And just like the gallery, it’s empty. 

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Sweet

You Can’t Force Art

You can’t force art.

That statement has long been in my mind since I skipped blogging for a month, I just can’t seem to bring the words straight out. Since then, I have published three posts which imply that very thought. And two of them share a connection surprising enough for me to write about it.

October last year, I wrote “the pen ran out of ink,” sharing how I kept writing but stopped publishing for a while, the reason being I barely get to finish a piece I could proudly put out, and claiming that my ink needs to stop bleeding from time to time, just like my heart. February of this year, “Inks and Pain” came out, and in it I talked about struggling to produce bittersweet or sad stories because my heart stopped bleeding at once—almost as if it’s feeling no more—driving me to ask for pain when it rains, so my ink could bleed again.

It’s not just because of the ink that the connection was made (I just really like that word) but more so with the contrast of emotion from both posts which affected its bleeding. The abundant feelings of last year obstructed me to write but the emptiness of today doesn’t make it any different. Even this post took me a while to make!

Now I rarely write down ideas on tissue papers and receipts or on anything I could take a hold of, my Notes don’t receive sudden thoughts I could turn into poetry, I am lost for words and my mind is probably still on vacation.

You can’t force art, but you can force yourself not to think too much about it and try out other things and just live. And maybe then, art will introduce itself again.

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