I am Ave, an overworked underappreciated Law undergrad from Singapore. My blog is linked at the top of this main page. You must excuse the bareness of the layout - function over form, as the Bauhaus men put it. (Disregarding the fact that form itself is one such function.) And yes, the pink has been changed to something asexual.
I write poetry when I feel - many people do, actually - and I feel most when emotions are extreme. For censorship purposes, I shall withhold my list of such extreme emotions. This collection of my poetry dates back two years since I started writing properly. You will frequently come across lists upon lists of random yet related words. They are an everpresent reminder that I must one day know what they are to be properly called, in a focal literary sense.
But until then, I present to you Her Hitler Hairdo, and pray that you will be as destabilized reading my work as I was writing it.
The most recent being:
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Ash
Towering Black velvet Magazine man Panes and rocks. A story once told. Lily, mud Sing to the mists Dug and shovelled To disagree, to clamour All received.
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