Size Seven Shoes

It's coming. I've ideas for a mini trilogy in the works teehee. Without over-exaggerating things, basically it'll be a short piece comprising 3 instalments - hence the trilogy title ;P I dub it A Glimpse. A Glance, A Gaze , and it shall receive its inspiration from 3 quotes which I shall select soon. Anticipate something later. I shall return! :) Day #13 - Missing many days, and you too. But hopefully as I am recovering physically, so shall the consistency of writing pieces posted.

(to the tune of This Old Man ) This author She's been sick She's had no time to update WIth a sore throat, blocked nose Feeling tired and sleepy too That's why nothing here is new Hehe ;) There'll be something new here soon. I promised fiction. I remember :)

P/s: Kindly check out Word Economy as well. It counts for Day #9 too :) You are As you were Like the waterfall of words Flowing steadily Trickling drops of sunshine Down the fine streams Of evening traffic And the rhythm to the melodies That dance in twilight Masquerading by day The stories and reasons To everything, and there Your voice with its tones and tunes Laughter carried on the winds Blowing softly on them Flags of pride and patriotism Government and establishment Fallen to a heap Memories, inventories Of things gained and lost They cost you, and I Would relive them Again if you would Be the heartbeat To this rhythm Day #9, extras - For Day #7, where I missed out posting something due to tiredness and rushing out test articles. Idleness breeds inspiration for this writer :) And I promise you fiction tomorrow...

It doesn't take many words to make a point. Perhaps many of us don't realise this, but it's true. Often times, we say too much in order to convince others or to make ourselves understood. But really, you can say very little and yet carry your message across. Let's consider some examples. Candles. Cake. Wishes. Presents. What does that make you think of? Why, a birthday party, of course. Try this: Eyes shut. Pillows. Lights off. Moon. Stars. And that would be... sleeping at night. Simple, isn't it? So why do we labour so much on many words? Use just the minimal, by selecting the right metaphors, and be understood by everyone. Food for thought :) Day #9 - A little sick, but not without an active mind ;)

Update via email I looked out the window of my office building this morning, and it was raining. Not a drizzle, not a storm… but rain, nevertheless. I watched the drops trickle down the edges of the window. The small but growing puddles accumulating on the rooftops. The leaves of the trees wriggling uncontrollably at the whims of the wind, as though being tickled by a whispered joke. What is rain but just drops of water descending from the sky? Yet it is a sign, a proof of providence from a God that reigns above us. It is the way that the Earth receives her nourishment, and the means by which she grows. No other human methods could probably hydrate the face of the Earth as efficiently as the rain does. Personally, I am quite fond of the rain. It is a symbol of good things to me. However, I realize that there are many who view rain as a negative thing. More often than not, rain is depictive of sadness or calamity in movies, songs, poems… But just because the skies are grey...

Foreword I am SLEEPY. However, I cannot sleep due to having to write some test articles for a part time writing job application. But the one and only follower of this site (which is known at this moment) has asked if there'd be any updates here. Now, I promised a daily flow of written work here, so I should not disappoint. Self appointed "holidays" can only be stretched so far. Teehee. So as an easy way out, here's one of the test articles I had worked on tonight. And if my potential employers read this, it's my ORIGINAL work, alrights? ;) The Article Have you ever noticed how sometimes certain things can be similar, but yet not entirely the same? I made one such discovery recently whilst surfing online for juicer reviews. I hadn’t thought of blenders and juicers as being different all this while, but now I do. Put simply, a blender basically liquefies the food you placed inside it. The final product is a puree-like liquid, which contains both water as well as th...

I think I will not write anything today. *self declared holiday ;P* Day #6

It all started with a friend telling me that my GTalk status had triggered her to start writing a poem. So I suggested why not we take turns adding lines to it (since she was stuck) and see what comes out. So this is the final result: DAYS AND MINUTES by Anna Tan and Susanna Khoo the days, they fly but the minutes, they crawl i try to climb high but it's easier to fall into comforts familiar down these winding steps onto these well-worn pathways into familiar traps yet on the horizon a glimmer a wish, a hope, a dream the days have flown by still, no nearer it seems time, please stop do not eat me away these fragile thoughts should not be your prey all i have, precious jewels that i harbour all i ask is another second, minute, hour to love, live, pray and give to put my words in song to remember all the good to take back all the wrong the minutes, they crawl yet as ever they speed by and as everything piles again we wonder why the days, they fly by me, still unaware yet there's ...

You don’t hear it, but there is a sound. It is a hard, loud plunk of something at the back of your mind, in the middle of my heart. It is quiet, but it is there. It casts its long, creepy shadows when none of us are watching, and whispers tunes in the cold night air. It is alive. It thrives – on the words we utter, on the steps we take. Up the creaky stairs. Down the noisy lanes of buses, trucks, cars and trains. Everywhere and anywhere, all at once. Once in awhile, something catches you firmly enough to leave its mark. And then you cannot part with what you knew. The things you leave behind and what you cannot forget, even with the passing of time. Blind. But ignorance cannot forever be pleaded. I hear it and it makes a noise. It crashes, and splinters into a million pieces at the bottom of the precipice. Sit. Still. For. Awhile. Piles and piles of memories, heightening to the mountaintops of lean dreams. You sing. And I pretend to believe everything. All the words meld into one. Only...

“Mr. Paint Man, draw me a picture please.” The girl pleaded in a sweet, tiny voice. He stopped short with his roller brush midway across the large wall. There goes the momentum. For a moment, he contemplated being annoyed at having his work interrupted. But that was only for the split second until he his gaze met hers. There was a sadness about her, somehow. Perhaps it was in her eyes. They looked somewhat misty, and her voice cracked a little when she spoke. “What kind of picture would you like?” The girl beamed at the question, but shrugged in reply. “You don’t know?” “Something beautiful,” was all she could suggest. He bent down and picked up a small paintbrush. He paused for a moment, realizing that he had no canvas to paint on. Not that it was a surprise, really. He wasn’t an artist, anyway. What’s worse, he only had two different colours of paint on hand. How that would amuse the girl at all, he really didn’t know. He looked around. But there was no surface he could easily make u...

Day #3: Skipped a day of writing. Blah. Well, I'l try my best to keep up wherever I can. :P

if only, to be found for reasons to sing to alter anticipated passages of time rhyme, to fill out songs anthems, enthralling the world to join in and sing along not to hide, but to try with linked hands and hearts muster courage to fight not permitting the things that matter to pass or die minutes, hours, days, years the moments they fly yet sometimes, time, stands still waiting creating a scene, propagating the means did you notice, feel or find anything because what falls to abeyance sooner or later, irretrievable would only be lost Day #2 - albeit late, thanks to the author falling asleep

It isn’t right. What isn’t? What they’re asking me to do. And so you won’t do it, right? Well, yes. Maybe. But then again, it may not be much of a choice for me. But you can decide not to. If you want, that is. Nobody would blame you. No. Maybe they wouldn’t. But I might blame myself. So what will you do then? I don’t know. What would you do? Hmm. Yeah. You see now? I understand what you’re saying, of course. That’s good to know. So, it’s like this. I’m giving myself 24 hours. And then? And then, I do what I need to do. You know, people always think what they want to. What you do doesn’t really change who you are. Yeah. But the thing is, people tend to just look at what you do most of the time. Or… didn’t do. True. But you know, I’m sure you’ll do the right thing. Right is subjective. So it is. And so is justice. * * * Okay, I’m gonna do it. You sure this time? Yeah. I’ve done my 24 hours thing. And what happened in that 24 hours that made you so sure? I thought about it. And? Th...

From here onwards comes the revamp. And hopefully this resolution sticks. The Challenge Write a short piece everday - could be a story, script, abstract piece, poem, etc Length should be at least one page in MS Word (single line spacing) Try to vary the topics as much as possible - one day different from the next Well, let's just see where this goes ;)

Long ago, I once had a blog called The Veritas Project. Veritas means truth. And truth, I believe, is the essence of really good blogging. You see, I've always believed in the sharing of the human experience. Of how what we've been through serves to encourage someone else. And that only can happen when we quite candidly open up and share about what we've gone through. Trouble is, after awhile, this gets pretty hard. I used to be one of those bloggers who could be super honest about how I felt on my blog, and would tell at great length about some current challenge I was facing, or some battle I was waging - emotionally, mentally or what have you. And those were the good old days when I was but a teenager, and felt so much more freedom for expression and other such liberal beliefs which we cling to when we're younger. But now I find myself having such difficulty to come clean with what is really going on my head and life. In particular, the private life. Which is probably...