Morning Fridge Poem: 12 [NaPoWriMo]
at night, it could be said that the poetry of city light throughout the world is the same.
I have been thinking of you against the flow of time, wishing I could have told you more often: beautiful soul, brave, strong, vulnerable and hopeful, I have always loved the colour of your heart. But you already know.
I hope peace is a mighty river where you are. I hope the good things of this life are flowering in your hands. I hope you are whole and loved and full. Till we meet again, my love. Till then, be well.
I miss the heat and the sound of the rain.
從小在意別人眼光的我，從小嚮往自由的我，一日一日走過了。
依然在意，卻更多了灑脫。
想用龐大的勇氣擁抱世界與世界裡的自己。
想用遼闊的善良接受世界與世界裡的自己。
I feel caught between cities, my heart stretched so wide. how to live a life that can fill in the gaps?
Hello my city on this side of the world, hello. 💕
Micro Review: Now That It’s Over by O Thiam Chin. // Riveting and heartbreaking, the stories unfold in the aftermath of the 2004 Boxing Day Tsunami, washing up layers of loss, loneliness, fear and isolation. I was intrigued by the characters and the constantly switching points of view, but left dissatisfied with the way the stories were fleshed out. I also found myself more invested in Cody and Chee Seng, than Ai Ling and Wei Xiang. On a positive, the tsunami event itself and the stories of the four characters felt completely necessary to each other, and the overwhelming setting of post-tsunami Phuket was sensitively and carefully woven together. Also, Ai Ling’s first few chapters were fantastic!
However, the novel dragged as it progressed. I was taken in strong, but spit out soggy. The alternating pronoun use worked sometimes, creating introspective narrative voice in some chapters, and jarring, clunky syntax in others. Mostly, I oscillated between disappointment and intrigue by the ultimate narrative function of our only female protagonist. Death may be senseless in a real tsunami, but not a literary one. Is the inscrutability of her being on the horizon but never seen (literally and figuratively) a form of ultimate resistance? Or is it another constructed vacuousness sacrificed to the altar of male melancholy? Still thinking about that one.
On a separate note, it’s been a long time since I did a one-day read, having moved toward nonfiction and poetry for a few years now. I did enjoy devouring the story in one go. Contemporary fiction can suck you so powerfully into its world (one can’t help tsunami metaphors in this context). I would recommend the read because I seriously need a second opinion about Ai Ling. Seriously.
i came to meet this city with my own two feet and found so many of you on the way. from the very new to those from long long ago, thanks for journeying together. will see you again. //
to the spaces that sheltered me in a season of quiet looking, i am grateful. // to the city waiting, i wasn’t running away, just looking for my future. let’s work well in the next season. 😌
