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A couple of social workers from Taiwan have visited our little island recently to acquaint themselves with the situation of homelessness here.

My takeaway: information on an upcoming event in Seoul.

https://www.iiud.org/ea-icn-14th

From Agent L (a pseudonym): “This conference will explore housing policies and the situation of homeless people and migrant-workers in Japan, Korea, Hong Kong and Taiwan. It features multiple site visits and local engagement.”


Today a couple of church-employees showed us around a church-carpark that has been re-purposed as an overnight shelter for our homeless friends.

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Yesterday was my first time attending a performance of Shakespeare's plays. I have read a number of his texts before (Othello, and The Tempest, just to name a few) but actors bring a new dimension to the performance. As my acting-lessons coach once said, “The text is dead. Actors have creative freedom to choose how they want to emote the words.”

Of course, the behind-the-scenes crew, and not just the cast, are outstanding in their individual and collective genius – time does not suffice to list all their luminary contributions. Included in the crew are Rayann Condy (as Intimacy Director), and Matt Hutchinson (in the department of Puppets, Puppetry Design & Direction). And Lee Yew Jin (sound design), and Peps Goh (fight-choreography).

I would like to highlight the physical space as another actor in its (her?) own right. The venue is Fort Canning Park. As the sun lowered itself behind skyscrapers – which, in the blue light of dusk, glowed softly with a thousand electric lights – a couple of large birds (wildlife, not props) soared above the greenery. “Eagles,” my companion-for-the-evening said. What a strange sound they are making, I thought. I've never heard them vocalise before.

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The combined forces were impressive. More than 80 choir members glided onto the stage, clothed in black, as if they were wraiths, now summoned to writhe before the Final Judge, before whom no one can be found blameless.

And I, a shame-faced mortal, sat with my flesh, (which is unceasingly beset with attacks of urine and excrement), awaiting the Strings section to stab the air with dramatic statements of tension and unease.

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Art should comfort the disturbed, and disturb the comfortable.

What a blessing it is to enjoy music – on both listening and performing ends – at public pianos.

Let me recount some memorable encounters while I was plonking away at the keys.

“my father is dead”

  • Venue: National Library Building, Singapore. Level 1, Lobby
  • Song request: “Golden Hour” by JVKE
  • Requester: a young lady, age-wise, maybe in her late twenties

“My father is dead. Before he died, he used to play this song for me. Can you play it?”

“sure, I can't play it fluently, as I'm unfamiliar with it, but I can try.”

“Thank you.”

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Then pealed the bells more loud and deep; 'God is not dead, nor doth he sleep! The Wrong shall fail, the Right prevail, With peace on earth, good-will to men!' – H. W. Longfellow

I have never had a father’s protection from danger, and I have never had a mother’s tender touch.

Every passer-by could see I was lost and abandoned, but no one had the willingness to help; or, even if they had, they lacked the ability. They shook their heads, and said, “it’s sad to see this”, and then went on with their lives.

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I present, below, a list of opinions about the millenia-old practice of masturbation and sexual activity.

Can your mind process these opinions and come to a conclusion that makes sense to yourself?


  1. “We are facing a pornography pandemic” by: Josh McDowell. https://saltandlight.sg/faith/we-are-facing-a-pornography-pandemic-josh-mcdowell/
  2. “Can I ever be set free from pornography and masturbation?” by: Dawson Ng. https://thirst.sg/can-i-ever-be-set-free-from-pornography-and-masturbation/
  3. “Facing up to porn addiction, the hidden third party in our marriage.” by: Sharon Tan (pseudonym). https://saltandlight.sg/relationships/porn-addiction-the-hidden-third-party-in-our-marriage/
  4. “Surviving an affair” by Willard F. Harvey Jr.
  5. “The real avenger: Christian song about struggles against lust and porn.” By: Gino Borst.
  6. “What does God and the Bible say about masturbation?” by: Pastor Mike Novotny.

a rambling discourse, on opinions, follows hence

The world is a noisy place. Everyone has an opinion. And you know what humorous uncles say about opinions: 'it's like an anus. Everyone has one.'

Yet wars are started on opinions, and friendships are similarly broken through opinions: “I am right and you are wrong.”

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It seems the wind is now blowing in the direction of community-building, in various small pockets of society.

I have been learning a lot, through such communities, over the past few days.

But, as an eccentric-yet-wise elder said, “I learnt a lot. But by the time I learnt a lot, I am dying. So I wrote a book to pass on what I have learnt.”

This is by way of passing it on.

P. S. I am grateful for no Covid lock-down today. shivers at the thought.

music

The young pianists – twenty-somethings, they looked like – were performing on either a Steinway or a Fazioli: grand pianos. Bach, and Liszt, and Mozart seemed to be popular choices. One of the pianists even nourished the audience with her own composition, a piece for a small ensemble: 1 harp, 2 cellos, 2 double basses, 1 percussion (drums), 1 horn, 1 flute, 1 clarinet.

That pianist-composer thanked God for holding her hand while walking through difficult times. She shared that her hands had suffered an injury while preparing for a performance.

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you fit into me like a hook into an eye

a fish hook an open eye

— Margaret Atwood

Dear fish,

Don't bother with what my fellow fisherman said. I thought he was my friend, but really, he's just an unpleasant boy who happens to be housed in the classroom as me.

I'm thoroughly embarrassed by his behaviour. I won't repeat the same words that he used to insult you.

I will remove him from my life once I have no further use for him.

Dear fish, tell me more about you.

Who are your parents? Did you always spend your life in this canal, or did you come from somewhere farther away?

It's so strange. The air that sustains me, out of water – it suffocates you. The water you swim in – that's your amniotic fluid – it drowns me.

O fish, you are my sibling, my cousin. We come from the same Father. Sorry that I put a hook into your lip. Will you forgive me? I didn't know any better.

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after a lithograph by Katherine Drake: “Mentally ill patients dancing at a ball at Somerset County Asylum”

I want to get out of here! A little dancer Asked me why I didn't join the merry dance No, dear, If dogs eat dung Should I join in the fun?

But, oh! How the drum-beat pulsed my heart! And, with a glance, The fairest lady of them all Tugged at the soul of this bard

No, no, no! Nein!

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It was a sunny day And you said I had morning breath Like any other day And you said my flesh was soft

How red it was And it helped you learn something “Eat it. Eat it.” You've never done that before

Then evening came, and —

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