Featured Pieces
Every bi-monthly edition, our editors come together and choose a piece that we feel has been particularly well written. This can be for many reasons, including but not limited to an inspiring message, deep insight, plenty of thought and obvious effort, and excellent use of language or art skills. This well-deserved submission is then named "Featured Piece of The Edition" and displayed on this page in pride of place.
Echoes of Who I Was
By: Ashley Wong
Rationale: The artwork, “Echos of Who I Was,” is a poignant portrait of the character, Mizuki’s identity crisis, as she glances into the mirror with a strong sense of bewilderment. This critical and melancholic moment illustrates how Mizuki’s struggles with self-acceptance and the complexities of gender identity. In the mirror, it reflects Mizuki’s past self, which is characterised by short hair during her junior high years. This creation focuses on emphasising Mizuki’s journey into exploring and embracing her true identity despite the stressful societal norms and expectations.
the world is yours and yours only
By: Amirah Datwani
the day you were born, you made history. the phenomenon is hardly a mystery. you think about it a lot, though. your mind wanders between your many meals at coffee shops and bistros, because for a nanosecond, you were the youngest person in the world. a precious, innocent thing, unafflicted by a single scar or burn. the existentialist brain cannot let that go. your introduction to the universe is immortalised in a photo. why isn’t it worth half the earth, a rare, exclusive picture of a miracle’s birth? you were smooth and soft, and just for a moment, you were the poster child of everything perfect, because the second you took that first breath, you replaced a life, you wiped away death. and your screams and cries didn’t yet drive your parents into desperate yells. no, they were too proud of themselves for bringing to the world a human not yet condemned to hell. when you come into the world, you set a record, then it’s ripped from your hands before you can collect your medal. the world is yours and yours only, until everyone moves on to the next person who’s made living a little less lonely. but for a brief moment in the passage of time, i did not belong to the universe. the universe was mine.​
Rationale: A poetic prose piece about the fascinating idea that everyone was once the youngest person in the world, that everyone has made history without even realizing it, and how every single human being has changed the world.
a vessel not mines
By: Princeton Chiu
I’m a person, trapped in a body.
A vessel, just not meant for me.
What everyone says is a meaningless prosody.
When I can’t even look at my reflection in the wide blue sea.
​
In the mirror, I see a person.
Staring back at me, with pitiful eyes.
Breathing in and out, like disappointed sighs.
When your reflection shows a person that’s not you.
You can be sure that your life is not true.
In ignorance, their conservative phobia spills through.
As if words of cruelty wrapped in sour morning dew.
​
For comfort, I hug- a blue white shark.
Valid. Invalid. I’m not even sure.
Faking smiles you can’t call pure.
Inside it all, beneath it all:
Lies a person blocked behind a wall.​
Rationale: This poem explores identity and how people might feel with their own body, themselves, when their values don't align with what they feel like they are, or want to be. This poem explores how societal norms, phobia and words can hurt people who just want a place in this world. There are specific references in the poem too!
Sweet Treat
By: Chloe Chan
Rationale: From the season of autumn and pumpkin filled delectables, a bright and colourful sweet treat is here to switch and sweeten your day. This piece is inspired by a platter of sweet cakes and treats, using pastel oil colours to achieve the bright blended look, and take your mind away from the orange blast of autumn.
To my dearest friend
By: Evie Sum
It’s been a long time since I last wrote to you. Apologies, things got… busy, hah. You know how it is.
I miss you. You were so fun to be with, lighting up the room with your smiles and effortlessly connecting to strangers. A lot of people always likened you to a bird, didn’t they? Pretty and strong-willed, with wings that take you wherever you want. I really like birds. That must be why I liked being your friend.
Hey, did you know? I’ve always envied you.
They say a bird born in a cage doesn’t know it’s a prisoner. Without knowing that it’s crippled, it dies happily in the cage.
You were so kind. So beautiful. So taken by the illusion of freedom, it hurt. Because you were never free, were you? Bending over backward for other’s whims, fluttering about ‘till your wings were so exhausted, you couldn’t fly away even if you wanted to. Your own feelings trapped you in eternal servitude.
I wanted to save you. Somehow. Take you out of that cage and set you free, even if it meant you left me. But how could I, when I too was trapped by society and all that exists? By the norms and the people?
So I had to break out first. You understood, right? Why I killed them. If kindness was the cage, if feelings were our shackles, all I had to do was… let go. If I killed our friends, well, wouldn’t we be free from the brainwashing we call “emotions”? Couldn’t we prove that we were truly as free as birds?
What am I saying? Of course you understood. You had to. You too were one of my friends. That’s why, when I pressed the knife into your hands, you killed yourself, right? To free yourself in the only way you could. Thinking back, I should’ve left you one or two of them, so that you wouldn’t have to resort to such measures… or maybe it was better that you died. I wouldn’t want you feeling as guilty as I do. It might be hard to believe, but I am still sane.
…I really do miss you. But I won’t apologize for the horrors you witnessed, because those horrors are things I embrace, now. They’re a part of me, no matter how much I dislike them. And because of them, I’m closer to being free.
I’m much closer. I have to be.
​
From,
Your ex-friend, a guilty bird
Rationale: Just wanted to experiment with a story in a letter; thought those were kinda cool. uh, y'all are free to interpret this as you wish.
Coping
By: Edward Wong
Rationale: My piece depicts a character tormented by their worries and dreads, which manifests in the form of a beast. As they struggle to cope with these challenges, they desperately cling to their mental health, represented by the monster's nose ring, and urge us to do the same too as the assessments roll in again.
The Best Chocolate Chip Cookie Ever
By: Audrey Yeung
Servings: 16
Prep Time: 15 minutes
Cook Time: 13 minutes
Ingredients:
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280g all-purpose flour
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1 teaspoon baking soda
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½ teaspoon salt
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170g unsalted butter
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150g brown sugar (light or dark is okay)
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100g granulated sugar
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1 egg and 1 egg yolk
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150g brown sugar (dark only)
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2 teaspoons vanilla extract
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1 teaspoon baking soda
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225g chocolate chips
Instructions:
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Whisk the flour, baking soda, and salt together in a large bowl. Set aside.
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Melt the butter in a bowl that is microwave-safe. You made that mistake last time, so you’re not going to make it again because it broke. You stared at the cracked pieces for a while before cleaning them up, forcing yourself to face the reality that baking is probably not your thing. But then again, what is? And yet, here you are.
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After the butter is cooled down, mix it with the brown sugar and granulated sugar with a spatula. Then, add the eggs and mix them all together until the consistency is smooth. You measured too much sugar, and now it’s all mixed up. Oh well, what’s a little more, anyway? You can hear the specks of sugar in the batter because no matter how much you mix, the ratio is going to be off. Your friends were wrong; baking isn’t fun. They said it was supposed to help, but it’s not. What a sick joke they must have played because look at all the ingredients you bought! Look at the batter that is half-ruined!
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Pick up the phone, because your best friend has been calling you for the past half an hour. Hello, how are you doing, you say, because that’s the script you learned when you were given your first phone at the ripe age of eleven. He says he’s doing well, and he asks it back. Or maybe he’s asked something else. You’re fine, you want to say. You’re doing well, you’re trying to say. You’re baking, you say instead. He doesn’t reply for a while. The phone lines are rusting. And he says something else about not sleeping enough, but his words come out muffled like he’s underwater, so you tell him to sleep well and to have a nice dream. He lets out a sigh, and he says goodbye, so you say goodbye, and then he hangs up.
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Pour the wet ingredients into the dry ingredients and mix it all together until a dough forms. Add the eggs as well, and top it off with the salt. The dough isn’t forming, and it’s more liquid than anything. Maybe add more flour. Ignore your doctor’s call; it probably isn’t important if he’s called seven times already. Dust the flour from your hands and put on some music. The speaker is dead, so just play it on the phone. Did they put out new music? The album is good, but not as good as their first. The dough is still liquid. Is there any point, then? Add more flour, but it’s too dry now. The eggs! Add the eggs. Mix it together. Turn off the music. Turn off the air conditioner. Close the windows. Everything is too loud.
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Pour the chocolate chips into the dough. You thought they expired a couple of months ago, but they seem fine. Mix everything together. Apparently, you’re supposed to taste it, and it tastes alright. Mix it more. Again. A little more. Once more.
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Scoop the dough into balls and place them on the baking sheet.
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Bake them at 325°F for thirteen minutes.
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Take them out of the oven after thirteen minutes. The clock must be moving faster because that doesn’t look right. The cookies are cool already, and the oven mitts were unnecessary. They’re already getting stale, but didn’t you just take them out of the oven? Oh well.
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The fridge has a pink sticky note that says, “Don’t Cry!”. You stuck that on this morning as per suggestions from your family and friends. In a wonderful turn of events, you didn’t cry today, so pat yourself on the back and enjoy your cookie.
Rationale: I wanted to write something, in honour of the theme of mental health awareness, that would bring attention to this topic more subtly - conveying depression in a way that might not be everyones 'first thought' through lesser known symptoms, and I hope that it might bring more awareness and increase general knowledge of what many people might be going through.
A Moment of Beauty
Sylvia Tong
Rationale: This is an image of a jellyfish. I thought it was beautiful, it projected motion, yet it was a still image. The calming nature of jellyfish complimented its bright orange colors. The picture that I took was really a moment of beauty. A moment that showed how beautiful something in nature could be.
fairest?
By: Jasmine Yeng
,llaw eht no rorrim berorrim
.lla meht fo rennis tsestaerg eht ot
,bnats uoy erehw ereh need evah ew
.llaf uoy nehw ereh ed lliw ew dna
.eurt tey berettahs, rorrim berorrim
.uoy snmebnoc reven enutrofsim taht yarq i
.serahs s'worromot ni worros eht 'O
neeb ev'i reaf I
.ssalg siht fo noitcelfer eth yb detqurroc
Rationale: yiiiippie!! mirrored writing, hold this up to a mirror or sum I switched all the d/b's and p/q's