archived from my Substack, originally published as #1. we need to talk
Through the week, there’s going to be lots and lots and WAY TOO MUCH stuff passing in front of my eyes.
And I mean it literally – it’s crazy to think about how it must’ve taken a much longer time than it does now for a young boy/man in Singapore to know about something that happened to another young boy/man in the United States, or Palestine, or even Malaysia.
Plus in different times, when you do find out about it, maybe you’d hear it described. Or read an article. Maybe a few photographs, or a snippet on the nightly news.
Whatever it was, you’d have to fill in the blanks in between what was told and what you think about it, or what you choose to find out, or share.
It feels to me like there aren’t any blanks anymore to fill.
It’s one constant, loud, intense, vital, lifechanging thing, after thing, after Thing.
(photo from Nguan. his photography always feels like it perfectly captures the mix of emotions I have for this imperfect country we call home, yearning for better 🇸🇬 )
I’m both tired and afraid of getting tired.
I don’t know if you feel the same. But a huge part of why I’m choosing this platform instead of others is because I think we need new spaces with new rules to choose from – and if you’re here, it’s hopefully only because you would like to be.
What I’ve learnt from my (limited) experience in working with communities (and the many amazing people who work in them) is this: for these sincere, meaningful, reflective conversations about Things to happen, you gotta:
- be in the right headspace
- be in the right safe space
- be with the right people
I hope this thing becomes its own community, in whatever weird, little way.
But right now, I’m just setting out to claim my little corner of (digital) space, with my rules. With a little more space, and a little less noise. This isn’t a space where everything’s figured out. This is a space to do the messy business of my own figuring out, and you’re invited because to do that, I think we need to talk and listen.
Twice a week, I’m carving out for myself this blank space to fill. I’d be honoured if you join me.
Editor’s note: it was a false start. or perhaps an idea whose time hadn’t come.