It's pure insanity:
I'm worried my attached ISD agent
has given up on me.
Now who's there to stop Fuad and I
from causing Singapore to crumble into the sea?
Who is there to make sure
that time, and tradition, and legacy
will be held on to,
tighter than the abundant, proactive mysteries
of how to best draw, over and over again,
a GRC boundary?
And just who will set me free
from the terrifying sickness
of being LGBT?
I can have children.
I can be me.
I can represent, in Parliament,
everything that isn't really
what I want to try to see,
when I look in the mirror,
when I talk to who I always was
long before the sea
took over, and made Merlionsman out of misery.
It's like what they used to tell me clandestinely:
if I were a girl, they would totally marry me.
Sadly, regrettably,
I am only a girl in my mind,
which to Singapore is not at all.
You know what they say, my brave, little gay:
get all your pride to come
uh, right out
before a fall
that would look really graceful, if I wasn't so clumsy;
thankfully, I'm only as lucky
to look right in the mirror and see through all my bullshit;
you know where that tongue has been.
You know that when you and I call it sin
only one of us is really being cheeky.
I absolutely hope you win (πΈπ¬).
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