Ministry of Abomination
Why would I return to a place
that not only conditions Singaporeans—
students and teachers alike—
to hate themselves,
but has literally no respect for whether I consent to receiving unsolicited emails,
to say nothing of how I still feel
about what you fucking did to me in 2022?
Or is it a provocation for me to raise hell
just like ignoring me, at your own daughter's wedding, was similarly a beautiful tell
about what the state is terrified of? You still want to compel
me to show how I am not like Jesus, and therefore cannot be the Makaravedra? Very well;
listen to this.
I will never sell
distended bliss,
or bloated, faux-serenity and ridiculous delusions of purity:
nor will I ever
turn against my own declared notions of unity.
Dividing husband from husband, son from son?
I still believe in the sacredness of every kind of family.
You believe
in abuse, and conditioning,
and lies, and utter, stinking, horrid psychoemotional misery.
I taught for you.
I loved all five of my fucking schools
no matter what they did to me.
Perhaps the state
wishes to explain
the covert homophobia, the surveillance, the gaslighting. The sheer devilry
that takes a Kristang teacher's breath away. The way my superiors in 2021 and 2022 kept insinuating at me
that I was some sort of freakish abomination.
Which is it?
Do you want gay Eurasian space Jesus, or do you want Kristang grade-producing machine specialising in psychoemotional transformation?
You can't have neither.
And if you keep insinuating that I made the wrong choice in leaving you behind, and that I am focusing on the wrong things in my life—
I never once taught my students
to be liars.
I never once made the Singaporeans under my charge
into psychoemotional pyres.
I wanted to retire
as a teacher.
I loved it.
And that's it,
isn't it?
It wasn't just those straight As
that made my CEP so sky fucking high.
It was a heart of resplendent gold,
and an actual, authentic, super-well-lived life.
Everything you lack.
So no.
Go back to the shadows.
Like your advertisements insinuate:
some lessons never die.
Even monsters deserve a second chance
to learn how to actually try.