An unnecessary guide to help you fall in love with meetings again (… or not) — Welcome, to the first and possibly last episode of Empathy in the workplace. I’ll attempt to write as one would speak in a podcast, so you can switch on your mobile phone’s Voice Over or TalkBack function whilst sitting in your Sukhasana pose, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly, letting go…

Just another year-in-review article written by a self-deprecating overthinker — In my last post that wasn’t a sad poem, I wrote about what I learnt working in a hugeass company. That sounds like me being extremely proactive, but we all know that’s not always the case about ourselves, because sometimes we get lazy, and sometimes life throws you snowballs in…

I thought I’ve overcome you Through Google and self-help readings I’d walk myself around you Talk myself out of you But still I sense you lurking Whenever someone comes near Whenever someone stares Whenever I walk by a mirror All bodies are good bodies We’ve learnt to love, not to shame All…

There are people who won’t love you There are people who won’t care There are people who like to call you names They’ll shame and strip you bare There are people who’ll keep saying You’re their precious little thing But when you’re looking for a steady shoulder You realise you’re just a fling There are people who don’t know you There are people who think they do There are those who’re out to strangle you Cause they’re suffocating too

Too much, now, too much, The world is way too much Excessive obsessions with ideas and goods Being different is now part of the Should’s Is paying to stand out really that outstanding Is money what the world is going to die spending I don’t know what I’m in for I just want in The stakes seem so high if I am not thin Too much, now, too much, The world is way too much Forgetting the land was once shared by all Till society’s greed defined what’s to rise and fall

“Mom, I don’t know why there’s the door-closing announcement. All buses have it now. Really. I’m in the bus. Yes. At Holland Road now. I can take a picture for you to see. I really am in the bus." He, Who is Bespectacled, Who carries a backpack full of What else but books, Who wears a white uniform Bearing a crest of Intelligence and wit, Puts his phone down and Goes home To a mother Whose paranoia and distrust Leaves his head hung low And his backpack heavy - not from What else but books - but from Invisible locks and chains.

Good night, she whispered, Her fingers tracing her shadow The wall is her refuge The moonlight is her friend

(that aren’t design-related) — Having previously worked in a four-man design studio, as well as cosy retail and F&B environments — where decisions could be made between, er, two human beings — I’ve always been intrigued by how it would feel like to work in a large corporate organisation. This might sound perverse, but…

I remember those days When it was cold and chilly I’d retreat into your arms And beg you to hold me You’d do as I ask of you Though I know you hesitate For you’ve shut all your doors And I’m just another, here, and way too late I wish I had known This was all just for comfort You had picked me up and put me down Like the winds do to grime and dirt I remember those days When it’s cold and it’s chilly And it hurts that these nights You no longer need me.