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A storm of thoughts tangled so tightly around my mind,
I couldn’t see.
I couldn’t speak.
I couldn’t breathe.
Everything inside me felt like scribbles—
no order, no meaning, just noise.
On the outside, people saw a face. Calm. Collected.
But inside, I was drowning in confusion, frustration, and pain.
After my stroke, that chaos became my reality.
Words slipped away from me.
Thoughts turned into puzzles I couldn’t...
For me, imagination has become a quiet superpower. When life feels uncertain or overwhelming, I don’t wait for happiness to arrive—I imagine it. I build it in my mind like a painting, stroke by stroke. I see the sunrise before it happens. I hear laughter even when the room is silent....
If someone had told me five years ago, when I was lying in a hospital bed struggling to speak, that I would go on to write not one, but five books, I might not have believed them.
But here I am — living proof that even in our darkest hours, hope can take root. That with persistence, heart, and a deep will to heal, we can rise again. And not just rise — but fly.
My fifth book,...
And yet, in today’s world, pain often finds its way online before it finds its way into healing.
A broken heart becomes a post.
A tear becomes content.
Sadness becomes a status.
But let me ask you this — when was the last time you simply let yourself feel, without telling the world?
I've had my share of tears.
Silent ones.
Frustrated ones.
Lonely ones.
After my stroke, I didn't need sympathy — I needed space.
Space...
At first glance, beginnings look beautiful.
Sweet. Innocent. Full of promise.
We romanticize them — a first book, a friendly publisher.
She looked like hope.
She smiled like support.
But not everything that glitters is gold.
Sometimes, beneath the polished surface, there’s something sharp.
The pages were real. The story was mine.
But behind the scenes, there was silence where there should have been celebration.
Control where there should...
A flower doesn’t ask for perfect conditions to bloom — it simply does, even if it means breaking through cracks in concrete or surviving storms no one sees.
I’ve come to understand that kind of resilience.
After my stroke, there were moments I felt buried under — not just by fear or confusion, but by the weight of not knowing who I was anymore. Aphasia made it harder to express myself, and some days I struggled to find my...
But after extensive persuasion (read: mild guilt-tripping), I agreed to go. Then the sun decided to set itself on “...
I never imagined I would one day become an author. Writing wasn’t part of the plan.
After my stroke, I was simply trying to survive, to recover, to find my way back.
I was a man who once spoke confidently, clearly — and suddenly, words felt like strangers.
Aphasia silenced so much of what I wanted to say.
But in that silence, something else awakened.
I began to write — not because I knew how, but because I needed to.
I wrote to remember.
I wrote to feel.
I...
When I first waddled into the ActiveSG Gym @ Serangoon Central, I wasn’t quite sure if I had entered a fitness centre or an adult-sized torture chamber. The machines looked more like spaceships, and I was still trying to figure out if I could trust my own legs—let alone squat or cycle.
But here I am, weeks later, and guess what? I’m actually enjoying it. Who knew sweating could feel this good?
At first, the one-hour sessions felt like a test of willpower and...
Perfect. Precise. Predictable.
I held on tightly to the script of my life — editing, re-editing, directing every scene.
I thought that was strength. I thought that was how to succeed.
But lately, a different truth has been whispering to me.
“The play begins when you stop trying to control the script.”
It hit me like a quiet epiphany.
As I start this new chapter — turning my stories into film — I find myself surrounded...
Then came the stroke.
Everything stopped.
I couldn’t speak the way I used to. I couldn’t move the way I remembered. Words felt like strangers. My body didn’t respond. I felt trapped inside myself — frustrated, confused, and silent.
For a while, I thought that was...
Sometimes, it begins with something as small as a cup of coffee.
The warmth in your hands.
The silence of the morning.
The moment before the world rushes in.
I remember days when even holding a cup felt like a challenge. After my stroke, I had to relearn everything — not just walking or talking, but believing. Believing that I could still rebuild a life that felt whole. That I could rise, despite how far I had fallen.
Recovery isn't linear. Some days I felt...
Don’t Grow Up – It’s a Trap (Don’t Grow Up – It’s a Trap)
This line — “Don’t grow up, it’s a trap” — came from a dark time in my life. It wasn’t meant to be cheeky or funny. It was whispered by the boy inside me — my alter ego — during the hardest moment I’ve ever faced.
During and after my stroke, I had to relearn everything. Talking. Walking. Even being me again. I was broken, scared, and often silent. But then something unexpected happened: the little...
After more than 35 years, I crossed paths with an old friend— Henri Leong.
Henri is one of Singapore’s top hairdressers and runs one of the best hair salons in the country. Trained at Vidal Sassoon Academy, he’s a true master in razor cutting, makeovers, and turning hair into high fashion. Back then, I was a creative director bringing in the best fashion pieces for magazine shoots, and Henri was the magician behind some of the most stunning hairstyles worn by models and celebrities. He was...
It’s Time to Fly
by Terence Ang
There was a time when I couldn’t even speak the words in my heart. When my body felt like a cage and my thoughts were locked inside. After my stroke, I had to learn how to walk again, talk again, live again. I wasn’t just healing—I was rebuilding.
Every step forward was a struggle. Every stumble felt like a setback. But somehow, I kept going. Not because I was fearless—but because something inside me refused to quit.
And now, after all the falls and the fights, I...
From silence to poetry, Thunderstroke is my journey of survival, strength, and spiritual renewal.
Each poem is a step toward healing—just like Easter, it reminds us that even after the darkest days, light returns.
"I fell into silence, but not into defeat..."
"Thunderstroke and Easter: A Journey from Darkness to Light"
Easter has always symbolized rebirth, hope, and the triumph of light over darkness. This year, it feels even more meaningful as I reflect on my journey and the release of my...
Thunderstroke: A Poetry Memoir Inspired by a True Story is a deeply moving and inspiring collection of poetry and memoir, offering readers a wellspring of meaning and reflection. How do you strike a balance between clarity and ambiguity in your poetry?
Poetry is a unique space where emotions and meaning can exist between the lines. For me, finding the balance between clarity and ambiguity comes naturally through my experience with aphasia. I aim to make my poetry accessible, allowing readers...
August 2020 marked a pivotal moment in my life. I suffered a life-changing stroke that turned my world upside down. At that time, I was overseeing digital marketing and e-commerce for Singapore's largest electronics and home company. The immediate aftermath of the stroke was a profound emotional and physical upheaval. I struggled with basic tasks and felt a deep sense of loss and frustration over my inability to communicate as I once had. The loss of independence, even in simple activities...
Terence Ang Interview Published on: 20, Nov 2024
Can you share what inspired you to write A Cry in the Dark and how your personal experience influenced the book?
I never imagined I’d write a book, but the stroke was a wake-up call that changed everything overnight. Suddenly, I found myself outside my comfort zone—going from a man in control to someone dependent on others. Losing my job, something I was deeply passionate about, was devastating. I turned to writing as a way to process my...