Wednesday, May 16, 2018


It is the start of Ramadhan. Ben and I had a little conversation over text, about the move of the embassy to Jerusalem. Ben is Jewish, and I'm Muslim by association (lolol I dunno how else to put it), so it could have become quite heated, but we saved that for another day, because texting is definitely not the best way to discuss a decades-long complicated issue, in which neither of us wants to see any bloodshed but each of us has a little bit of an interest in sort of opposing sides. He doesn't agree with the move, and I would say I wouldn't agree with all the moves made by any of the parties so far. So. Will I ever learn to cut my run-on sentences short, and write properly? Perhaps. I told Ben that the ink ribbon for my typewriter is sort of drying up (is that what it does? not sure what the proper terminology is), and Hazwani might not have had time to find a replacement before giving it to me for my birthday. I don't know where I can find typewriter ink ribbons, seeing as typewriters themselves are not too common in Singapore, and Ben said he'd look around in Brooklyn when he gets home, and send them to me if he finds them. I love Ben. It's hard to want to sit myself down to write when I remember that I have Ben, who makes me feel so good, and so nice, and so much better about the world, but then I think, to get to Ben, to get with Ben, I have to keep writing. So. Delayed gratification is how it will have to be.

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