First and foremost,
do not panic.
Do not proceed to your designated evacuation craft;
things do not have to be that automatic.
Things, undeniably, by now,
should have been much less fucking traumatic.
But you know what?
When the light hits the sun,
at such a precise and inclined plane—
the universe tends to call out, in brilliant prismatic force.
The world turns upon a drop of rain
coloured in sand.
In hopes that once only dared to span
shallower waters, far between Facebook and Instagram.
Maybe you've heard of the Pillar of Autumn,
of In Amber Clad.
Maybe you've even heard of Resplendence,
and the stories I, too, once had
of a time when I thought I was loved.
But eh,
you know what?
That's how the Maliduensa makes it so very tough
for you to stand up,
look out,
and realise that things actually might be quite fucked up.
So, as dawntiger of the Republic of Singapore—
the Republic that wants to be
something more;
the Republic that I believe still believes
it is worth fighting for—
be that worth.
Be that first
out gay and non-binary teacher.
That first stellar and shiny and sexy dreamfighter.
Be someone who deserves to wake up to his ancestors
reading quietly on the bed next to him,
and openly dreaming, too, of a Singapore
that they once dared only to secretly imagine.
This is for Edwin.
This is for Mabel.
This is for Tommy, and Peter.
This is for Bernard, who gave me back my name, and said
Tudu sempri pun podih, Kevin.
You don't need to take revenge,
and you don't even need to win;
you just need to open every door and every window you can.
You just need to never stop letting the light in.
No posts