Carrick Ang
@carrickang.bsky.social
animator. writer. 🇸🇬
i post minimal bandwidth stories.
i post minimal bandwidth stories.
I write my life with a light pen, gently pushing strokes of ink into the fabric of life. Here and there, accents and accidents happen, but I move forward. In reminiscing the past, I notice my tattered papers. Oh see far I've come! 🧗
May 28, 2025 at 1:11 AM
I write my life with a light pen, gently pushing strokes of ink into the fabric of life. Here and there, accents and accidents happen, but I move forward. In reminiscing the past, I notice my tattered papers. Oh see far I've come! 🧗
The problem was always becoming human. Being a wolf was easy - it was natural to hunger, to howl, to hunt. To sit on rooftops/pavements/ground and feel the cold wind rippling against your fur. Being human though; there was this mystical ever-shifting baseline of 'decency' that was expected. 🐺
April 12, 2025 at 11:56 PM
The problem was always becoming human. Being a wolf was easy - it was natural to hunger, to howl, to hunt. To sit on rooftops/pavements/ground and feel the cold wind rippling against your fur. Being human though; there was this mystical ever-shifting baseline of 'decency' that was expected. 🐺
How does one process goodbyes? Your friend leaves on a ship that's bound for faraway lands. Your sibling steps through customs at the airport. Your lover closes her eyes at the hospital. Would you remember these moments as bittersweet? Or just bitter, and sour, and all the things you hate to eat. 😩
April 10, 2025 at 2:17 PM
How does one process goodbyes? Your friend leaves on a ship that's bound for faraway lands. Your sibling steps through customs at the airport. Your lover closes her eyes at the hospital. Would you remember these moments as bittersweet? Or just bitter, and sour, and all the things you hate to eat. 😩
The smattering of obtuse shenanigans begets the arrival of the Fool King - he who entangles and warps the nonsensical tragedies of the universe into his bullshit mouth and farts out celestial vomit from his stinky butt hole. We watch on in morbid fascination - this Armageddon is a foul one. 💩
April 9, 2025 at 2:17 PM
The smattering of obtuse shenanigans begets the arrival of the Fool King - he who entangles and warps the nonsensical tragedies of the universe into his bullshit mouth and farts out celestial vomit from his stinky butt hole. We watch on in morbid fascination - this Armageddon is a foul one. 💩
There is a quietness that shivers and slithers through the cosmic quandary of stories and tales. A wood serpent has arrived. We feel its thorny scales bind us as we catch our extinguishing breaths. It's going to be one crazy mother fucking year of the snake. And it all starts, with a plane crash. 🧨
January 31, 2025 at 2:36 PM
There is a quietness that shivers and slithers through the cosmic quandary of stories and tales. A wood serpent has arrived. We feel its thorny scales bind us as we catch our extinguishing breaths. It's going to be one crazy mother fucking year of the snake. And it all starts, with a plane crash. 🧨
The rains are heavy in Singapore. Ah Tan the hawker packs away his plates and cleans up the countertop. He thinks about what 4 digits to buy for tomorrow's lottery and wonders about the black cat he saw earlier. He'll go feed it later.
Sometimes, it's the simple things that are the best things. 😽
Sometimes, it's the simple things that are the best things. 😽
January 10, 2025 at 1:01 PM
The rains are heavy in Singapore. Ah Tan the hawker packs away his plates and cleans up the countertop. He thinks about what 4 digits to buy for tomorrow's lottery and wonders about the black cat he saw earlier. He'll go feed it later.
Sometimes, it's the simple things that are the best things. 😽
Sometimes, it's the simple things that are the best things. 😽
"I could write you a love song," says the grunge rocker to his muse. She smirks. "And what good would that do?"
It'll remind you of your youth, of your innocent impressions of a world yet tainted, of your ernest hopes to change it, of your ever ready heart to be broken. It'll be sunshine. 🌻
It'll remind you of your youth, of your innocent impressions of a world yet tainted, of your ernest hopes to change it, of your ever ready heart to be broken. It'll be sunshine. 🌻
December 26, 2024 at 1:21 PM
"I could write you a love song," says the grunge rocker to his muse. She smirks. "And what good would that do?"
It'll remind you of your youth, of your innocent impressions of a world yet tainted, of your ernest hopes to change it, of your ever ready heart to be broken. It'll be sunshine. 🌻
It'll remind you of your youth, of your innocent impressions of a world yet tainted, of your ernest hopes to change it, of your ever ready heart to be broken. It'll be sunshine. 🌻
Liam the YouTuber observed the drone in the distance. Below him, the waterfall cascaded into the green cyanide ravines beyond. He'd enjoyed the morning breakfast of Maggi Goreng with sunny side eggs - he just wasn't sure if it'd be his last. Still, a good one to go out on. He shrugged, and jumped. 👣
December 19, 2024 at 1:47 PM
Liam the YouTuber observed the drone in the distance. Below him, the waterfall cascaded into the green cyanide ravines beyond. He'd enjoyed the morning breakfast of Maggi Goreng with sunny side eggs - he just wasn't sure if it'd be his last. Still, a good one to go out on. He shrugged, and jumped. 👣
The medicine man in front of me wears a necklace made of 7 silver blue beetles. He stirs a brew and mumbles an incantation - the concoction bubbles and spews dirty brown powder into the air.
"It is ready," he offers me a sip with quivering hands.
Milo kosong peng. The drink of the gods. ☕
"It is ready," he offers me a sip with quivering hands.
Milo kosong peng. The drink of the gods. ☕
December 17, 2024 at 12:59 PM
The medicine man in front of me wears a necklace made of 7 silver blue beetles. He stirs a brew and mumbles an incantation - the concoction bubbles and spews dirty brown powder into the air.
"It is ready," he offers me a sip with quivering hands.
Milo kosong peng. The drink of the gods. ☕
"It is ready," he offers me a sip with quivering hands.
Milo kosong peng. The drink of the gods. ☕
"Whatcha doin'?" asked the fat man to the thin man in bowler hat. The thin man was chewing - that was obvious. The thin man glanced at his companion and swallowed.
"Taking my time. To digest the experience of passing time and sandpits. To enjoy the mundane and the new. To taste life itself." 👅
"Taking my time. To digest the experience of passing time and sandpits. To enjoy the mundane and the new. To taste life itself." 👅
December 15, 2024 at 1:58 PM
"Whatcha doin'?" asked the fat man to the thin man in bowler hat. The thin man was chewing - that was obvious. The thin man glanced at his companion and swallowed.
"Taking my time. To digest the experience of passing time and sandpits. To enjoy the mundane and the new. To taste life itself." 👅
"Taking my time. To digest the experience of passing time and sandpits. To enjoy the mundane and the new. To taste life itself." 👅
Reposted by Carrick Ang
Reposted by Carrick Ang
December 9, 2024 at 11:13 PM
"Yelling at the stars doesn't help, you know," says Andre the space cadet, as he lights up an astro-cigarette in the upper stratosphere of Saturn.
Mitchell nods back. "Yeah but it makes me feel better."
He takes a swig of oxygen and howls at the moons, again. In space, no one can hear you scream. 🌌
Mitchell nods back. "Yeah but it makes me feel better."
He takes a swig of oxygen and howls at the moons, again. In space, no one can hear you scream. 🌌
December 10, 2024 at 1:14 PM
"Yelling at the stars doesn't help, you know," says Andre the space cadet, as he lights up an astro-cigarette in the upper stratosphere of Saturn.
Mitchell nods back. "Yeah but it makes me feel better."
He takes a swig of oxygen and howls at the moons, again. In space, no one can hear you scream. 🌌
Mitchell nods back. "Yeah but it makes me feel better."
He takes a swig of oxygen and howls at the moons, again. In space, no one can hear you scream. 🌌
Reposted by Carrick Ang
Nerd Connection "Cash" music video by korean animator/illustrator YeahyeahNa.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=gdlt...
www.instagram.com/yeahyeahna
www.youtube.com/watch?v=gdlt...
www.instagram.com/yeahyeahna
December 10, 2024 at 10:08 AM
Nerd Connection "Cash" music video by korean animator/illustrator YeahyeahNa.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=gdlt...
www.instagram.com/yeahyeahna
www.youtube.com/watch?v=gdlt...
www.instagram.com/yeahyeahna
Reposted by Carrick Ang
Embroidery helps, though
December 10, 2024 at 2:47 AM
Embroidery helps, though
Reposted by Carrick Ang
Good morning!☕️✌️
December 8, 2024 at 12:54 PM
Good morning!☕️✌️
Even if the stars don't appear tomorrow. Even if all the lights of the world went out. Even if all the terrestrial bodies of the heavens are shut off. The guiding light of SPC station Ah Seng's impeccable aura shines bright. Ah Seng would know of course - everyone needs a top up once in a while. ⛽
December 9, 2024 at 1:09 PM
Even if the stars don't appear tomorrow. Even if all the lights of the world went out. Even if all the terrestrial bodies of the heavens are shut off. The guiding light of SPC station Ah Seng's impeccable aura shines bright. Ah Seng would know of course - everyone needs a top up once in a while. ⛽
The auntie behind the counter is looking at me without judgement. She's trying to guess what my next choice of food would be - a meat, an egg, a vegetable? Or would I point to a mimic/mesmer trap dish - steamed egg with tiny bits of meat in it, boiled broccoli with pieces of seafood in its sauce. 🥷
December 2, 2024 at 1:36 PM
The auntie behind the counter is looking at me without judgement. She's trying to guess what my next choice of food would be - a meat, an egg, a vegetable? Or would I point to a mimic/mesmer trap dish - steamed egg with tiny bits of meat in it, boiled broccoli with pieces of seafood in its sauce. 🥷
Your miles are expiring. The auto posting bot couldn't have conceived of sending an existential cosmic boom to the universe at large, but yet, here we are. In my inbox. A poetic declaration of my/our temporal space in time - now resolutely running out of time/distance/speed. Click to redeem. 🛫
December 1, 2024 at 2:30 PM
Your miles are expiring. The auto posting bot couldn't have conceived of sending an existential cosmic boom to the universe at large, but yet, here we are. In my inbox. A poetic declaration of my/our temporal space in time - now resolutely running out of time/distance/speed. Click to redeem. 🛫
Saturday birds sound less eager than Sunday ones. They're tired from the week, you see. Of foraging scattered food, sudden torrential rains, the tropical sun burning away in cloudless skies. Everyone can do with a hot stuffy nap on Saturdays. Even morning larks desire for a sleep in. 😴
December 1, 2024 at 2:05 PM
Saturday birds sound less eager than Sunday ones. They're tired from the week, you see. Of foraging scattered food, sudden torrential rains, the tropical sun burning away in cloudless skies. Everyone can do with a hot stuffy nap on Saturdays. Even morning larks desire for a sleep in. 😴
Fishballs on a stick. Fish don't really have balls. They wouldn't be pleased with the stick-y situation either. But here we are, lined up next to marinated chicken balls, and bacon in-between asparagus. The sweet savoury smells of a skewer line in the Basement Uno of a Singaporean shopping mall. 🍢
November 30, 2024 at 1:19 PM
Fishballs on a stick. Fish don't really have balls. They wouldn't be pleased with the stick-y situation either. But here we are, lined up next to marinated chicken balls, and bacon in-between asparagus. The sweet savoury smells of a skewer line in the Basement Uno of a Singaporean shopping mall. 🍢
The large Indian man in front of me walks a suave handsome walk. His beer belly apparent through his tight polo shirt. Despite the unusually cold weather, he glides through the monsoon drizzle. The mini umbrella stuffed in his left back buttock pocket sways with his sashay as we cross the road. ☔🕺
November 29, 2024 at 1:32 PM
The large Indian man in front of me walks a suave handsome walk. His beer belly apparent through his tight polo shirt. Despite the unusually cold weather, he glides through the monsoon drizzle. The mini umbrella stuffed in his left back buttock pocket sways with his sashay as we cross the road. ☔🕺
Reposted by Carrick Ang
What We Do In The Shadows.
November 26, 2024 at 5:01 PM
What We Do In The Shadows.