HAPPY TRAIL

I’m looking at flights to Vancouver. I have an option to transit through either SFO or LAX. The layover in LAX is 17 hours, which is honestly pretty much an entire day but it’s also the cheaper option. I’m not sure if I’m gonna leave the airport at any rate, I can’t find information about whether I’ll have to quarantine, as a visitor from Singapore. It would be neat to be able to go to the beach and have an ice-cream. Or two. I love New York from the bottom of my heart, but LA has the sun, sand and sea, so y’all know I will always be a West Coast bb. I mean, whilst it hasn’t burned itself to death, at least.

I was talking to my colleagues in the past weeks, and two of them said at two different times, that my eyes lit up and I looked happy. I was reminded of the story of Cupid and Psyche, that Tina told me about when we were at The Met, looking at a statue of them. It’s basically Romeo and Juliet in deity form, which is ironic because well, it is. Tina told me this morning that she’d mail me my The North Face puffer coat and backpack when I get settled in to my apartment. Of all the instances of happenstance that have occurred in my life, getting to know Tina via an international Facebook group for women of color must have been the best. Men in New York, please do better so y’all deserve her.

I daresay no one would be able to say they’ve had a fantastic year this year, maybe except Jeff Bezos and all the pieces of shit who have capitalized off a global pandemic to earn staggering profits whilst watching poor people suffer. Therefore, I think it will not be surprising to hear me say, I want this goddamn year to goddamn end already. When a vaccine has been created and approved, may it be distributed smoothly and easily and thoroughly, with no fucking jagoffs trying to prioritize or maximize profit.

ONLY THE YOUNG

you did all that you could do 

the game was rigged, 

the ref got tricked 

the wrong ones think they're right 

you were outnumbered, this time 

but only the young 

only the young 

only the young can run 

can run, so run 

and run, and run 

so every day now 

you brace for the sound 

you’ve only heard on TV 

you go to class, scared 

wondering where 

the best hiding spot would be 

and the big bad man and his big bad clan 

their hands are stained with red 

oh how quickly, they forget 

they aren't gonna help us 

too busy helping themselves 

they aren't gonna change this 

we gotta do it ourselves 

they think that it's over 

but it's just begun

Taylor Swift has a song called Only The Young that she wrote after Donald Trump became the last president. I think the title is slightly ironic, because both candidates this time were geriatric white men who must be so out of touch with most of Gen Z’s requests for the world they’re gonna grow up in. Heck, I’m a millennial and I’m already out of touch with my sisters sometimes, a lot of the time.

I unravelled last night. I should have known something was up when I refused to schedule therapy. I’m not one to do the difficult thing, I push and shove until the difficult thing is done, but I don’t do it. The last time I faced a difficult decision, this was exactly what was said to me: “if it were me, I’d want to run away too” so I tried to run away, again. I’m 30 and I still don’t want to do the difficult things. Come on, Sarah, where is your character development?

I’m on the way to the office to submit my biometrics for my pending visa application. I also put in an email to the landlord of an apartment I saw on craigslist. The place looks quite alright in photos, so fingers crossed. I had a massively long night, but I’m glad I unravelled through the night, because I needed to. 

HEAVEN IS A PLACEWHERE NOTHING EVER HAPPENS

Sarah: Did u finish watching the dash and lily show? It started out a lil cringe but i straight bawled at the last ep ugh new york at christmas ❤️💔

Adam: Omg yr already done? We have three episodes left

Sarah: I have anxiety i have to binge my shows. Enjoy!!! I hope yall have some tears too hehehe

Adam: Did you agree the main girl is you

Sarah: Um idk, she was a girl in new york who loved books which is an experience i’ve had but there are a gazillion girls who are probably like that

Adam: Eh I thought it was uncanny
I bet Tina would agree

Sarah: But what about it was uncanny tho? Her first scene was literally her caroling and i can’t sing hahahaha

Adam: Like she’s also a super idealist and romantic sentimental girl

Sarah: Do you, not know... a lot of idealist romantic sentimental girls? I feel like if someone is an idealist then the other two come naturally with

Adam: Lol well I guess not really
Like I could totally see you in the club and slam poetry scenes

Sarah: Omg!!!! That is true

So I spent 3.5 hours on the way to and from work yesterday, just watching Dash and Lily. It's adapted from a book for young adults, I think. The first two episodes are a little bit cringe, but I did get into it by the end. It's basically about these two teenagers who have never met, but dare each other to do things through a notebook, first introduced in The Strand. The Strand is a popular bookstore in NYC, that's in need of saving, through these terrible times we live in. They finally meet properly in the final episode, back in the bookstore, and everything about it is perfect. 

Lily is an idealist who loves Christmas, and Dash is a cynical grinch who has walls up to guard himself. Eventually he has the bookstore set up especially for her, with her favorite pie from Gowanus, etc. It obviously reminded me of my own experience in New York. In that episode, when they meet, they don't know what to say, because they'd been communicating only via the book and telling each other things they hadn't told anyone else. Lily then just says, "sometimes words aren't enough", and kisses him. 

I know what this feels like, when you love books and words and even though there are a million ways to say I can't stop thinking about you, sometimes you just need to touch. I think the pandemic has been affecting everyone in very strange ways, I don't know if there's such a thing as hooking up safely, I don't know when the last time anyone got a hug was. I do know human touch is very important, so remember to hug the people you can meet.

Yesterday, at work, I was telling my friends that we’d finally sent the first black person to the International Space Station, and they didn’t know what the ISS was. When you’re thirty and your colleagues and friends are mostly in their teens or just past their teenage years, sometimes your cumulative knowledge can be more than theirs. I wonder if it will be the same when I’m back in school. Perhaps. It was strange explaining the ISS to them, I thought everyone knew we had astronauts that are based in space, but the idea was completely foreign to them.

RESILIENCE

The best way to get someone to watch something is by telling them the main character is them. I don’t have that much time ‘cos of work but you best believe I’m gonna try and binge this on the way to and from work. The show looks like it has got good ratings so far, and Adam says the main character is not completely out of whack, so that’s promising. Lololol.

Also, is true love in this day and age anything apart from sending each other memes every time you see a funny one? Who knows. I love memes. Memes r love, memes r life. Make my wedding a meme wedding.

BIG BEAR

Desire starts low in the body, in my body. It is a dull stretch, polished well around the edges, so you don’t feel it growing beyond its original boundaries. The longer you ignore it, the more feral it becomes. There are tiny bits that feed it, that slip under your radar, a system that you might have intentionally removed the battery from. Your best friend telling you she made a man cum four times in the last night. Watching your favorite porn star use your favorite vibrator on one woman, then another, and yet another. Watching a couple ride on the same bicycle, thinking of the many ways I could twist that with my words. Twiddling my thumbs and remembering the multitude of manners those two digits can form permutations of pleasure. I’m hungry, and not in my stomach. Sometimes, I’m anxious because I heave the weight of the world onto my shoulders, when literally no one has ever asked me to. Sometimes, life’s more fun when you push desire to its very edges, then give in to it. As Mary Oliver said, you only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves.

This morning, I saw my favorite Instagram account, Awards For Good Boys, feature a podcast by Asa Akira interviewing Owen Gray. The man himself says he has a following because there are legions of people who think he’s doing the most, by doing the least, of showing he cares for female pleasure. I realized that’s why I liked him, putting me in among many others. At first, I thought oh fuck, I don’t want to like him just because he’s shown the bare minimum of basic human decency, but then I realize, what choice do I have? There is simply no alternative, also underscoring why crowds of women flock to him. So, I shall allow the soft animal of my body to love what it loves.

SUNFLOWER SEEDS

In a turn of events, because of Samsung's stupidity, and also a lot of silliness on my part (don't ask, I'm exhausted), I am now using an iPhone XR. It was my sister's as she's switched to the new iPhone 12 Pro, and so now it's mine. I hope it lasts for the next four years of my school life, because I really do not want to buy a new phone. This means I have gone full circle and sending thotty photos on iMessage is a thing I can do, jeez. Today has felt like a very long day, it actually was going pretty well. It's felt like one of the longest days of my life. The only way I can describe it is when you've taken a long flight to another continent and the time difference has made your day longer and all your body wants to do is go to sleep, but the time dictates that you stay awake, because it's not! yet! night time! Yeah that's what this long day has absolutely felt like. I went shopping with my mother and sister, and my mom got me two winter coats, I suppose she felt obligated because she had bought the iPhone 12 for two of my sisters. No but I do recognize that it was very nice of my mom to set me up with a couple of winter outfits, I really do like both coats, and I can't wait to keep cozy in them. My head feels awful, the constant pressure of not having enough money is giving me a tension headache, I think. I need to drink more water. There is a food show on Netflix that I quite favor, it's called Somebody Feed Phil. There's an episode about Singapore in the latest season, it was filmed last December, pre-COVID. I really appreciated the episode, because it actually showcased the different ethnicities' cultures through our food. If there's one thing Singapore does absolutely, unambiguously, wholesomely right, it is the food. The episode also does talk about some of our manmade extravagant structures (the waterfall in our airport, srsly why does anyone need a waterfall in an airport), whilst highlighting that it's all taken a very expensive toll on the people at the bottom. If you've never been to Singapore, I think watching Somebody Feed Phil feature it is a good introduction. It's a little like Hong Kong, but simultaneously better and worse. 

NO ONE LEFT BEHIND

I met Dea today. I hadn't seen her for a couple of months. When we had just met today outside the Thai place we would eat at, I finally saw Tom, her boyfriend, via a videocall. He's cute. They met in uni in Australia but now they're doing long-distance because of COVID. Today Dea told me they'd had phone sex (of course you have to, in a long-distance stint) and I spat out my laughter. I swear I didn't ask. I suppose I just click better with other people who have one-track minds. I would like to say, masturbation is also a great reliever of stress, and my favorite is the Hitachi magic wand. It's great. A little heavy, but fucking ace otherwise. Dea was telling me about her plans of maybe bringing in a health shake into Singapore for me to introduce to people from lululemon, as most of them are instructors in gyms, but I don't know how much longer I have here. Today I finally had progress on my visa front. Speaking of gyms, I would really like to train my upper body, my arms are shite and I want to do pull-ups!!!! This morning, my lululemon friend Nate asked how I was, so I told him I wasn't doing too well, because I thought I was gonna get my period today, and he said "oh shit" and walked away???!?!!?! He's a 27-year-old man??? Men!!!!! Please do better?!?!? The past few days were a little rough, I was stressed out by my finances and Alex Trebek also died. He's the adorable host of Jeopardy whom I'd admired for years and who's taught and impressed me so much. However, I made it through my day, and I am quite happy today.

FATHER OF THE BRIDE

Dyou think I could learn the chords to this song? I also think she sings in a register that I could reach. It would be a useful party trick, or even just for the bedroom. I suppose I may as well get a holistic, wholesome education in the next few years. 

any time you want to, pick up the telephone
you know it ain't nothin'
drop a couple stacks on you
you want it? you can get it, my dear
five million dollar home, drive Bentleys I swear

I want your body, I need your body
long as you got me, you won't need nobody
you want it, I got it, go get it, I buy it
tell them other broke bros, be quiet

stacks on deck, Patrón on ice
we can pop bottles all night
baby, you can have whatever you like
said, whatever you like, yeah
late night sex, so wet so tight
gas up the jet for you tonight
baby, you can go wherever you like
said, wherever you like, yeah

shawty, you the hottest
love the way you drop it
brain so good, coulda swore
you went to college
hundred can't deposit,
vacations in the tropics
'cause everybody know
it ain't trickin' if ya got it

you ain't never ever gotta go in your wallet
long as I got rubber band
banks in my pocket
five, six rides with rims and a body kit
you ain't gotta downgrade
you can get what I get

my chick can have whatever she wants
go in any store, buy any bag she wants
I know you ain't never had a man like that
buy you anything your heart desires like that

I'm talkin' big boy rides and big boy ice
let me put this big boy in your life
thang so wet, it hit so right
put this big boy in your life

Also, the race has been called. The motherfuckkker has lost. Time to heal and rebuild everything he's damaged. Life is almost okay.

CASAMIGOS

I haven't scheduled a therapy session for weeks and my mind has been cluttered with election anxiety, so it's been a dump. It is a good day though, when you're woken up by your favorite people telling you Biden may have won the next term of presidency. It's not the most ideal situation but in a world like this, you have to take any wins you can get. Take them and revel in them. One thing at a time, one day at a time. I learned of some character development and it made me happy. I think when someone gets placed in a box but they defy those boundaries and have dimensions to their person you never knew about, it's such a nice surprise because people are so complex and dynamic. It reminds me of the sea, and you know water is my favorite element. In the very last episode of The Good Place, Chidi tries to cushion the idea of death to Eleanor.

He says, picture a wave in the ocean: you can see it, measure it, its height, the way that some light refracts when it passes through. It's there, and you can see it, and you know what it is, it's a wave. And then it crashes on the shore, and it's gone, but the water is still there. The wave was just a different way for the water to be for a little while. The wave returns to the ocean, where it came from, where it's supposed to be.

Some people have a calming effect on me, just like the sea, and I am glad for it. I'm a very anxious person so I don't know if I'm that person for anyone, but I do hope I have that effect. I don't live near the sea, so sometimes I go through turbulent times forgetting to return to nature, but it's there, the sea is always there, and I can always find it. I should really schedule some therapy.

SPOOPY SEASON

When I was at the Singapore concert of the 1989 world tour, and heard the version of Love Story on it, I knew it would always be my favorite rendition and that I wanted to look like Taylor in that outfit. My favorite holiday has been Halloween for almost a decade, and I hadn't gone as Taylor Swift, so I thought this would be my year. She technically plays the piano on the 1989 performance of Love Story, but I mean, I didn't know how to bring around a piano, so I settled for a guitar instead.

Tina has recently become single and she made a Spotify playlist called Soundtrack to Singledom. Half the songs are about sex and I love it. New Yorkers' music tastes really hit different. I recognize more than a few songs and artistes from stuff Adam used to listen to. When Tina was going on dates, she sent me some really thotty photos, of her in uhhhh, outfits (or lack thereof?) that I haven't worn for years, and I have to say, in the case of breakups, the people who really stand to win are the women's girl friends. If you don't send your nudes (or close-ish) to your best friends, do you even really trust them???? My dudes, if you've got it, flaunt it (with consent!!!!!!), is what I always say. It's open season, shoot your shot!!!!! If you and your best friend don't hype each other up like Tina and I do, what even is the point? Two days till Trump realizes he's stepping down from office, I hope!!!!!! I keep getting email updates from CUNY about the upcoming semester, am I supposed to have told them I chose another school? I never formally enrolled with them though, and I've already paid for my first year in BC, Canada.

A MILLION LITTLE TIMES

I used to like watching Bojack Horseman. When I was in LA four summers ago (in 2016, just before the Trump administration), someone introduced me to it for the first time. To my deepest consternation, I have forgotten his name. I know who he is, I couchsurfed at his place and he was never home because he worked on a TV crew. He was writing a play and he had notes and books all over his apartment, and he also had a gazillion tattoos on his body. I just forgot his name. This makes me feel like a bad person, but that's what I am. I am good and bad and all the things rolled into one human being. I know he wrote me a nice review on Couchsurfing, because I cleaned up his apartment in between reading all the books he had, and I wanted to check for his name, but I have been paywalled out of my account because I don't want to pay a fee to keep the site up (I haven't been an active member for years!). At this point of time I'm honestly trying to play a game with all my brain neurons to recall his name: should I go to a baby names website and look through all the names?? is it Leo? Howard? OMG it worked, my brain worked. His name is Patrick!!!!! I wonder how he's doing in life. As I was saying, I first watched Bojack with him, and I followed it for a couple of seasons, but one day I stopped. I don't remember the particular scene or why, but I know Bojack is a depressed character and as far as I know, he doesn't really do much about it. I think it hit too close to home.

I think I'm a high-functioning depressed person, but my sister may not be. I've gone to her school to help her get back in, but she eventually dropped out for good. She recently got a job a couple of months ago, but in the past two weeks, she's missed work without a "physical illness" and didn't inform them prior, so I don't know how long she can hold onto the job. I say "physical illness" in inverted commas because despite not being contagious or tangible like fever or the flu, I know depression can make it pretty physically impossible to move or want to do anything. When she doesn't go to work, she starts crying or curling up and then you can't really get through to her. As a high-functioning depressed person, I can go to work without seeing a point in it, I just become a mechanical robot working on autopilot. My rationale for it is so that I don't become a burden to anyone else. When I'm spiralling into my episodes, I recognize it and I either seek out medication or therapy. 

This time of the year is the worst for my family, I think within the same month in 2016, I had a miscarriage and our cousin that my sister was the closest to, died suddenly in a motorbike accident. This is the first year since then that I haven't had a full-blown meltdown, but I have a feeling my sister hasn't become conscious of her triggers yet, because she went to the cemetery last weekend, and it brought on her latest episode. I had some mean thoughts about her yesterday, I didn't say them to her, but I know I was being very mean about it. Sometimes, she asks how to get rid of depression, and if I have said it once, I must have said it at least thirty times, for her to go to therapy regularly and take medication. I think her condition is so bad that it truly cripples her from even keeping herself in check to do those two things. I don't know what else we can do for her, there was a period of time our other sister kept tabs on her taking her medicine, or sent her to the clinic for therapy. These are things a seventeen-year-old should not have to do. This is the same sister who is also affected by my night terrors, the poor child. I think I had mean thoughts last night because as an onlooker, you can feel helpless and useless.

I don't know why I started this tangent. As a so-called adult, I have made many friends, younger and older, who also suffer from depressive episodes. These are people who have great prospects in life, they graduated from Harvard, they're yoga teachers, they're white men with no financial debt living in Singapore. I know that depression is both a debilitating disease that can affect anyone, and I know that it's exacerbated by capitalism, which thrives off making you feel incomplete and less than, and you have to beat it in the smallest of ways, reminding yourself that you are happy without another pair of shoes, without getting surgery to perfect your vision, without all those things that all these other depressed people have in their lives. You have to constantly ignore every single sign thrown at you, and remind yourself your worth is more than what a capitalist system expects of you, or the completely made up monetary value you can contribute to such a flawed system.

YOU HAD TO KILL MEBUT IT KILLED YOU JUST THE SAME

I didn't have it in myself 

to go with grace 

cause when I'd fight, 

you used to tell me I was brave 

and if I'm dead to you 

why are you at the wake? 

cursing my name 

wishing I stayed 

look at how my tears ricochet 

and I can go anywhere I want 

anywhere I want 

just not home 

and you can aim for my heart, 

go for blood 

but you would still miss me 

in your bones 

and I still talk to you 

when I'm screaming at the sky 

and when you can't sleep at night 

you hear my stolen lullabies

According to my sister, I have night terrors. None of my exes ever told me this so I'm not sure if it's only happened in recent years. Apparently my thrashing and flailing during my sleep is strong enough to wake her up sometimes. I don't remember if I slept well by myself when I was in New York. I don't remember sleeping by myself very often, ever in my life. I thought I slept better with someone by my side, but I guess not.

WATERMELON SUGAR HIGH

I just had a few moments of being very happy. I don't know why, perhaps my blood sugar spiked from the food I'd consumed, maybe not. I am happiest when I'm in love so I suppose I was in love. Not with anyone in particular, just in life. Yesterday morning, a friend at work, Nate, made Eggo waffles for the morning team, because somehow our pantry always has Eggo waffles stocked. I remember trying them for the first time only after having seen them on Stranger Things. Do people actually like Eggos or was it only made popular because of the series? I love junk food, I eat cookies and ramen and ice cream all the time but I really think Eggos are rather trash. If you're gonna make instant waffles, at least make them good?!?!?!?! The presidential debate is in a few hours. Here is a reminder that Trump hustled in the last elections, polls were shown as Hillary leading, perhaps causing Democrats to lower their guard and not turn out in their highest numbers. Don't trust the polls. Don't trust anything. Go out and vote!!!!!!!!! If y'all allow Trump in the White House for another four years, I swear there isn't enough time, with climate change, to see America ever become great. The world has its eyes on you. Also AOC was on Twitch streaming herself playing Among Us and that's why she will one day be the first woman POTUS, when all the sensible young people vote her in. I'm keeping myself alive just to see that day happen.

THE LAST BLACK MAN IN SAN FRANCISCO

We went cycling at East Coast Park today. It's a long stretch of beach from the airport to wherever the heck it stretches to, and it was nice to see, people in their safe groups of five. Parents were teaching their kids to rollerblade, the sun was not too hot as it was past four in the afternoon. It felt lovely, to see pockets of friends enjoying water activities, families rejoicing in raucous laughter. 

I was having a lot of fun, until my left elbow hurt, and I wondered whether it's because I have hyperextended elbows. I don't actually know what that means or entails. Ben told me we both had hyperextended elbows before, and you know me, I thought, oh this guy cycles and snowboards and he knows his body (and mine, and I'm not exaggerating) very well, so if he says I have hyperextended elbows, I have hyperextended elbows, whatever that means. I suppose I have better awareness of my own body since I met him ---- aaaah, that's another chapter for another day. Anyway, my elbow hurt the second hour of cycling is all there was to that. I won't have a bicycle in Vancouver (although I might get a skateboard) so I need to squeeze in all the cycling I can get here. Sometimes, when I spend time in nature, breathing in the breeze, I think, the world is okay. This pocket of time in this pocket of space is okay. Then I swam in the evening, and I did many continuous laps and I love swimming, so that was another pocket of time that made today great. 

I recently watched The Dawn Wall, about these two men who free climb The Dawn Wall, a relatively smooth surface of El Capitan at Yosemite. I'd wanted to go back to climbing classes but my friend Sarah from lululemon went bouldering in a gym last week, landed poorly back onto the ground, and she had a slipped disc or something or the other in her spine, and she had to be hospitalized!!!!!!!! So that makes me wonder if I really want to learn to skate in Vancouver. If I fell and scraped my knees that's fine, but if I have to get hospitalized by myself in another country, I WILL LOSE MY SHIT. Anyway, what I wanted to say was I've been to Yosemite before, but it was in the dead of winter and it was covered in snow, like the Mac OS default desktop once upon a time, and I definitely wanna see it again in spring. One day. One day. Before the world ends.

We watched Feels Good Man tonight, it's about Pepe the Frog and how it snowballed from being a general meme all the way into being an alt-right symbol and listed as a hate symbol, like a swastika, by the Anti-Defamation League or whatever. Bro, that really got out of hand and I feel terrible for the creator, he's such a hippie-type person, who like, needs therapy. Matt Furie says this world is a garbage world, which is completely legit. I hope Trump doesn't win again. The film ends well because Hong Kongers co-opted Pepe to be their symbol for freedom in their protests against authoritarianism, so that's some good shit man. It was a good Saturday and it feels good, man.

PALO ALTO

We recently watched A Life On Our Planet, which I think should be mandatory viewing for everyone who lives on this planet. It highlights how poorly we've treated the natural world, all our mistakes so far, and I think David Attenborough makes a little bit of a simplistic yet necessary case for how we can do better, and how of course we must: the political will to divest from fossil fuels to renewables, the act of engaging in sustainability, eating what you can grow, etc etc. I think Indigenous Peoples Day recently passed in the US, and there is a lot of knowledge that Western imperialists can gain from indigenous peoples on sustainability. They've lived directly on the lands for thousands of years, taken care of it, taken only what they needed from it, and given back to it. We're coming back full circle, and what's left is for the main actors and perpetrators who are treating the world like shit (and they know who they are, people who work for BP/Exxon and the like) to stop and turn to the alternative. I chanced upon this piece of writing on Orion Magazine shared on an activist group, and I really felt it:

Beyond Hope by Derrick Jensen

THE MOST COMMON WORDS I hear spoken by any environmentalists anywhere are, We’re fucked. Most of these environmentalists are fighting desperately, using whatever tools they have — or rather whatever legal tools they have, which means whatever tools those in power grant them the right to use, which means whatever tools will be ultimately ineffective — to try to protect some piece of ground, to try to stop the manufacture or release of poisons, to try to stop civilized humans from tormenting some group of plants or animals. Sometimes they’re reduced to trying to protect just one tree.

Here’s how John Osborn, an extraordinary activist and friend, sums up his reasons for doing the work: “As things become increasingly chaotic, I want to make sure some doors remain open. If grizzly bears are still alive in twenty, thirty, and forty years, they may still be alive in fifty. If they’re gone in twenty, they’ll be gone forever.”

But no matter what environmentalists do, our best efforts are insufficient. We’re losing badly, on every front. Those in power are hell-bent on destroying the planet, and most people don’t care.

Frankly, I don’t have much hope. But I think that’s a good thing. Hope is what keeps us chained to the system, the conglomerate of people and ideas and ideals that is causing the destruction of the Earth.

To start, there is the false hope that suddenly somehow the system may inexplicably change. Or technology will save us. Or the Great Mother. Or beings from Alpha Centauri. Or Jesus Christ. Or Santa Claus. All of these false hopes lead to inaction, or at least to ineffectiveness. One reason my mother stayed with my abusive father was that there were no battered women’s shelters in the ’50s and ’60s, but another was her false hope that he would change. False hopes bind us to unlivable situations, and blind us to real possibilities.

Does anyone really believe that Weyerhaeuser is going to stop deforesting because we ask nicely? Does anyone really believe that Monsanto will stop Monsantoing because we ask nicely? If only we get a Democrat in the White House, things will be okay. If only we pass this or that piece of legislation, things will be okay. If only we defeat this or that piece of legislation, things will be okay. Nonsense. Things will not be okay. They are already not okay, and they’re getting worse. Rapidly.

But it isn’t only false hopes that keep those who go along enchained. It is hope itself. Hope, we are told, is our beacon in the dark. It is our light at the end of a long, dark tunnel. It is the beam of light that makes its way into our prison cells. It is our reason for persevering, our protection against despair (which must be avoided at all costs). How can we continue if we do not have hope?

We’ve all been taught that hope in some future condition — like hope in some future heaven — is and must be our refuge in current sorrow. I’m sure you remember the story of Pandora. She was given a tightly sealed box and was told never to open it. But, being curious, she did, and out flew plagues, sorrow, and mischief, probably not in that order. Too late she clamped down the lid. Only one thing remained in the box: hope. Hope, the story goes, was the only good the casket held among many evils, and it remains to this day mankind’s sole comfort in misfortune. No mention here of action being a comfort in misfortune, or of actually doing something to alleviate or eliminate one’s misfortune.

The more I understand hope, the more I realize that all along it deserved to be in the box with the plagues, sorrow, and mischief; that it serves the needs of those in power as surely as belief in a distant heaven; that hope is really nothing more than a secular way of keeping us in line.

Hope is, in fact, a curse, a bane. I say this not only because of the lovely Buddhist saying “Hope and fear chase each other’s tails,” not only because hope leads us away from the present, away from who and where we are right now and toward some imaginary future state. I say this because of what hope is.

More or less all of us yammer on more or less endlessly about hope. You wouldn’t believe — or maybe you would — how many magazine editors have asked me to write about the apocalypse, then enjoined me to leave readers with a sense of hope. But what, precisely, is hope? At a talk I gave last spring, someone asked me to define it. I turned the question back on the audience, and here’s the definition we all came up with: hope is a longing for a future condition over which you have no agency; it means you are essentially powerless.

I’m not, for example, going to say I hope I eat something tomorrow. I just will. I don’t hope I take another breath right now, nor that I finish writing this sentence. I just do them. On the other hand, I do hope that the next time I get on a plane, it doesn’t crash. To hope for some result means you have given up any agency concerning it. Many people say they hope the dominant culture stops destroying the world. By saying that, they’ve assumed that the destruction will continue, at least in the short term, and they’ve stepped away from their own ability to participate in stopping it.

I do not hope coho salmon survive. I will do whatever it takes to make sure the dominant culture doesn’t drive them extinct. If coho want to leave us because they don’t like how they’re being treated — and who could blame them? — I will say goodbye, and I will miss them, but if they do not want to leave, I will not allow civilization to kill them off.

When we realize the degree of agency we actually do have, we no longer have to “hope” at all. We simply do the work. We make sure salmon survive. We make sure prairie dogs survive. We make sure grizzlies survive. We do whatever it takes.

When we stop hoping for external assistance, when we stop hoping that the awful situation we’re in will somehow resolve itself, when we stop hoping the situation will somehow not get worse, then we are finally free — truly free — to honestly start working to resolve it. I would say that when hope dies, action begins.

PEOPLE SOMETIMES ASK ME, “If things are so bad, why don’t you just kill yourself?” The answer is that life is really, really good. I am a complex enough being that I can hold in my heart the understanding that we are really, really fucked, and at the same time that life is really, really good. I am full of rage, sorrow, joy, love, hate, despair, happiness, satisfaction, dissatisfaction, and a thousand other feelings. We are really fucked. Life is still really good.

Many people are afraid to feel despair. They fear that if they allow themselves to perceive how desperate our situation really is, they must then be perpetually miserable. They forget that it is possible to feel many things at once. They also forget that despair is an entirely appropriate response to a desperate situation. Many people probably also fear that if they allow themselves to perceive how desperate things are, they may be forced to do something about it.

Another question people sometimes ask me is, “If things are so bad, why don’t you just party?” Well, the first answer is that I don’t really like to party. The second is that I’m already having a great deal of fun. I love my life. I love life. This is true for most activists I know. We are doing what we love, fighting for what (and whom) we love.

I have no patience for those who use our desperate situation as an excuse for inaction. I’ve learned that if you deprive most of these people of that particular excuse they just find another, then another, then another. The use of this excuse to justify inaction — the use of any excuse to justify inaction — reveals nothing more nor less than an incapacity to love.

At one of my recent talks someone stood up during the Q and A and announced that the only reason people ever become activists is to feel better about themselves. Effectiveness really doesn’t matter, he said, and it’s egotistical to think it does.

I told him I disagreed.

Doesn’t activism make you feel good? he asked.

Of course, I said, but that’s not why I do it. If I only want to feel good, I can just masturbate. But I want to accomplish something in the real world.

Why?

Because I’m in love. With salmon, with trees outside my window, with baby lampreys living in sandy streambottoms, with slender salamanders crawling through the duff. And if you love, you act to defend your beloved. Of course results matter to you, but they don’t determine whether or not you make the effort. You don’t simply hope your beloved survives and thrives. You do what it takes. If my love doesn’t cause me to protect those I love, it’s not love.

A WONDERFUL THING happens when you give up on hope, which is that you realize you never needed it in the first place. You realize that giving up on hope didn’t kill you. It didn’t even make you less effective. In fact it made you more effective, because you ceased relying on someone or something else to solve your problems — you ceased hoping your problems would somehow get solved through the magical assistance of God, the Great Mother, the Sierra Club, valiant tree-sitters, brave salmon, or even the Earth itself — and you just began doing whatever it takes to solve those problems yourself.

When you give up on hope, something even better happens than it not killing you, which is that in some sense it does kill you. You die. And there’s a wonderful thing about being dead, which is that they — those in power — cannot really touch you anymore. Not through promises, not through threats, not through violence itself. Once you’re dead in this way, you can still sing, you can still dance, you can still make love, you can still fight like hell — you can still live because you are still alive, more alive in fact than ever before. You come to realize that when hope died, the you who died with the hope was not you, but was the you who depended on those who exploit you, the you who believed that those who exploit you will somehow stop on their own, the you who believed in the mythologies propagated by those who exploit you in order to facilitate that exploitation. The socially constructed you died. The civilized you died. The manufactured, fabricated, stamped, molded you died. The victim died.

And who is left when that you dies? You are left. Animal you. Naked you. Vulnerable (and invulnerable) you. Mortal you. Survivor you. The you who thinks not what the culture taught you to think but what you think. The you who feels not what the culture taught you to feel but what you feel. The you who is not who the culture taught you to be but who you are. The you who can say yes, the you who can say no. The you who is a part of the land where you live. The you who will fight (or not) to defend your family. The you who will fight (or not) to defend those you love. The you who will fight (or not) to defend the land upon which your life and the lives of those you love depends. The you whose morality is not based on what you have been taught by the culture that is killing the planet, killing you, but on your own animal feelings of love and connection to your family, your friends, your landbase — not to your family as self-identified civilized beings but as animals who require a landbase, animals who are being killed by chemicals, animals who have been formed and deformed to fit the needs of the culture.

When you give up on hope — when you are dead in this way, and by so being are really alive — you make yourself no longer vulnerable to the cooption of rationality and fear that Nazis inflicted on Jews and others, that abusers like my father inflict on their victims, that the dominant culture inflicts on all of us. Or is it rather the case that these exploiters frame physical, social, and emotional circumstances such that victims perceive themselves as having no choice but to inflict this cooption on themselves?

But when you give up on hope, this exploiter/victim relationship is broken. You become like the Jews who participated in the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising.

When you give up on hope, you turn away from fear.

And when you quit relying on hope, and instead begin to protect the people, things, and places you love, you become very dangerous indeed to those in power.

In case you’re wondering, that’s a very good thing.

AMERICANAH

Tina moved to Brooklyn and is making new friends, so she has followed Adam on Instagram and reached out to him. Apparently he asked how I've been doing, so Tina told him about my plans, and he said he's glad I'm getting away from my family. I had a lot of fun with Adam and I like being happy for him, and vice versa. When we were together, it was nearing Christmas and I'd bought him the cookbook from The Great British Bake-Off, because we'd watched quite a few episodes together and he loved the show unabashedly. It was adorable. We broke up before Christmas, I think, so I eventually gave the book to Tina instead, and now they're friends. At least online if not irl someday. How funny life works. I love Tina very much and I also care for Adam, so I hope they look out for each other because the world needs more of that. I finished reading Americanah and I absolutely loved the ending. The middle of this week was absolute hell for me, my visa application stressed me out and so did the medical checkup. I don't have the fondest feelings for hospitals and clinics because i) I found out I had a miscarriage in one and ii) once, I was in a car crash while being driven home after being put on a drip for one night in hospital. This time, as always, the nurse had trouble drawing blood, the first vein on my right arm didn't yield any blood, and she said my veins are tricky. So she moved on to my left arm. I almost cried. I don't like blood, I don't like pain, and I don't like hospitals. She used a syringe, and the vein in my left arm cooperated. I was not happy in the middle of this week, but I had a good day today, I saw Tina's face (on videocall) for a good hour and we laughed and I love her, and I'm having a happy moment now. My sister and I are chatting about my day, so I told her about Adam. I call her Jie, because the whole family calls her Jie.

Jie: so who's Adam?
Me: the guy I dated in New York
Jie: the guy with a nice car?
Me: huh?
Jie: isn't there a guy who like drove you and sped around?
Me: no that's Los Angeles, that's literally the other end of the country
Jie: I don't know the map!

Did I know, before I turned 17, that LA and New York are on opposite coasts? I don't know, I cannot recall, and so my sister gets a free pass for tonight.

To all my American friends, to my exes, to my exes' ex-girlfriends, to my exes' current girlfriends, to my exes' ex-boyfriends, to my exes' current boyfriends, to all the non-binary partners, to everyone who lives in America and can vote, please do so. I don't care what your opinion on Joe Biden is, we all know he's trash but Trump has done so much damage that even regular Biden trash would be better. V O T E !!!!!!

EARTHSHOT

I'm halfway through my visa application but there is a lot of documentation I have to procure and settle, including a medical checkup. I hate medical checkups. I had a mini panic attack today, looking at how much I have left to do. Applying for my visa, on top of my password, I was asked to set five of my own questions and answers as verification, so I did. The questions are things like who likes The National, who did I kiss at Central Park, who worked at SpaceX, and the like. There are five questions and five names. I find it hilarious. I don't know why. You can't explain humor.

I had a therapy session and my therapist explained what the brain is made up of. She says the reptilian parts of our brains, the one that's evolved from millions of years ago, is hardwired to panic and perceive threats at the tiniest of notions, and it all happens so fast, if I'm not mindful, a lot of my reactions are just my reptilian brain in action. Then we have the mammalian parts of our brains, that control our emotions, and then the prefrontal cortex, the part that's able to be mindful and think slow. My therapist says, based on stressful childhood situations and events that have happened in my past, my reptilian brain is quick to judge what it thinks are signs of danger, which explains why I can be fatalistic and pessimistic. We are embarking on a journey to rewire and reprogram my brain so that I can balance my instant reflexes, with my rationale that takes in more information, to churn out something that's more in the middle. It's going to take practice but it will one day be second nature, just like it is for me to ride a bicycle. My therapist asked whether I could cycle and how I learned, and I remember clearly. My father taught me, and I remember thinking what the fuck is this man doing, placing me on this gigantic bicycle with no training wheels, I'm going to fall and die, this is child abuse. But he pushed, and I pedalled, and eventually, now I like to cycle.

I hope my school therapist will be as good as my current one, because I sure as hell won't be able to afford one that's not covered by student insurance. Also, at the end of the session, my therapist emailed me saying she enjoyed our session. I know this is because I am very vivid when I recount situations and I also really say whatever I want because I know she's not supposed to judge me. I don't know if you know, but in therapy circles, there are people who try to get validation from their therapists, because they just want to please everyone. That's another issue I should work on, but we'll take one step at a time. I couldn't help but feel pleased, maybe she'll miss me when I move too.

REPERTOIRE

I really like Owen Gray. Obviously I don't mean his personality because I don't know who the man is but I think I have seen most of his performances. I'm very intrigued by the idea of Owen Gray as a person, I'm not sure why. I would like to know his entire life story, and how such a captivating persona came about. What is it about him that has contributed to the reddit shortlists of his videos? Is it his tattoos? Lots of performers have tattoos. His hair? In my opinion, unremarkable. His voice? Not distinct enough to be memorable either. Do men also dissect and reverse-engineer the reasons for why certain porn personas are their favorite? I do not know. I watched The Social Dilemma on Netflix last weekend, it is a very good documentary about social media and how technology can (and has) easily spiral to be used for malice, and a lot of them have a sort of curfew for themselves to set aside their devices before bedtime, but now what I'm thinking is, how would you watch porn????

I should really be applying for my visa soon, I will do so in the morning. I might be paralysed by anxiety and preoccupying myself with everything but my visa, honestly, Sarah Mei Lyana if you don't get your shit together you're going to be homeless when you arrive in Canada and you definitely don't want that. I was watching a popular K-drama series on Netflix and in the last episode, they travel around South Korea in an RV. I think that would be an amazing thing to do. When I graduate, I'll do a road trip around Canada in an RV. It would be a good way to reward myself. Look at me, planning my graduation trip when I have singlehandedly refused to apply for my student visa. Okay!!!!!! I will have a good night's rest and do it when I wake up. I promise.

THE OTHER L WORD

hello again

friend of a friend

I knew you well

Today, I provided character reference for a friend who's applying for a new job. I think the interviewer believed me, which is great, because I was just honest. I hope she gets it, it's a cool job and I'd wanna hear all about it. Last week, we rewatched Scott Pilgrim vs The World. I'd forgotten that it was set in Canada. I've heard the movie doesn't do justice to the comics (lbr no film adaptation ever, ever does, no exceptions) but I've never read them so I think the movie does just fine. I really like how the premise seems to be about Scott battling Ramona's seven evil exes, whilst he's actually a terrible person himself who cheated on Knives, and then the real arc is in him defeating his previous self. I just spoiled the movie but I have a feeling everyone has already seen it. I rewatch it once a year and I like being reminded that battles with other people usually just end up in battling yourself and in self-growth, yada yada yada, whatever you know the drill. While doing the character reference, I got reminded of my cousin who's a radiographer. Occasionally, she sends me a report to vet through, when she's applying for scholarships or whatever. My friend who also has a small business selling makeup sponges and tools asked me to write up on her and her business for the website. I like being good with words, because while I read and write about things, I get to learn a lot about the minute details of different industries and occupations. I also really like it that these people trust me to communicate messages that aren't necessarily easy to convey. It's not often that I have stretches of feeling comfortable in my own skin. 

DIAPHRAGM

One of the things I cannot figure out is this one time when I was getting drunk with a guy (lol just a guy, go figure) in Los Angeles, there was a female bartender who had a really nice conversation with me, she listened to me yapping on about my nonsense. I remember her telling me about her career aspirations and somehow getting either her number in my phone or giving her my number. The next morning, she checked in on me while I was probably nursing a hangover (I get drunk very easily and I don't like the taste of alcohol, hence why I don't really drink). Every time I look back on that, I wonder if the conversation had been organic and what she's doing with her life now, or whether she was just looking out for me as a fellow woman. Perhaps it was both. I think that night was the night I peed in the bushes somewhere, that was a ratchet ass night. Sometimes I grieve the loss of my silly younger self, but sometimes I marvel at the memories I have made, and am also proud of this stableish adult person I have become. Sometimes these happen at the same time. I only wish I'd had the foresight at the time to really drink it in, and soak up each moment, of myself walking around Thousand Oaks, this belatedly gangly teenager basking in the desert temperatures, not knowing how precious it all was. I'm much more present and conscious at thirty, to know exactly where I am and what I'm doing. It is 5:46am and the sun has not yet risen. It is therefore quite cool at night, and my sister is asleep next to me in bed. The silence is fleeting and momentary and I will enjoy this stillness while it lasts. Have a good week ahead, everyone.

LOW INTENSITY STEADY STATE

I think it's the Jewish new year so, Shana Tova. Ruth Bader Ginsburg just died. I truly hope Trump doesn't get to appoint someone new before he leaves office. The Super Mario franchise got re-released on Switch, and I saw Kid Icarus on it. I only just realized that's what Adam's Instagram handle is a pun of, I never knew there was a game called Kid Icarus. I think Adam has a girlfriend now, which is great for him. One time, I met a guy I used to date, I thought he wanted to be friends because I knew he had a girlfriend, and he kissed me full on the lips when we met. I was pretty appalled by that and I never spoke to him again. Women who cheat on other women knowingly are just terrible. These past two weeks, I've been a sort-of interim therapist for my friends and family members, because they've been caught in undesirable social situations, due to the fact that men are socialized to become scumbags. I feel a lot of feelings on behalf of my friends, because I'm personally invested in their well-being and I know the parties involved. This is why you cannot be a therapist for your friends or the people you know, you will burn out pretty easily. Anyway, I was talking about Super Mario. We watched a guy called Kosmic do a speedrun of the original Mario Bros and he completed it within five minutes. I don't quite understand the point of speedruns and the intensity of hitting subpixel precision but I do appreciate it's an art. I'm going to try my best not to spend the next few weekends playing Super Mario, because I've actually got a full plate of other things that matter. For example, I leave in three months but have yet to apply for my student visa. I also really do need to go back to a routine of some exercise, tonight I'll skip rope.

TROYE SIVAN

I was actually having a pretty good week last week. I had a games day with Reen, Chloe and Rebecca. We played Kingdomino, Codenames, Anomia, and Blokus. It reminded me a little of Ben, because he works (used to work? I dunno) in a games café, and we also played board games on one of our dates. The winter coat that Tina had ordered for me from The North Face had arrived at her place. I think my friends in Singapore are also worried about me getting seasonal depression in Canada, and Pearlyn initiated a conversation in which she wanted to buy me heat tech pants from Uniqlo. I met my cousins to celebrate one of their birthdays. I met Kylee for the first time, she grew up in Texas but is working here now, she's half-Filipinx and really reminded me of Tina and we had a really good dinner together. I had a therapy session, during which my therapist said I'd made a breakthrough, and I felt like I was good to reduce the frequency of my sessions for the sake of my school savings (I currently do one hour of therapy every fortnight). Last night, though, I was woken up by terrible news to someone dear to me, and I began having nightmares. Dhuha, my one (1) friend in Vancouver for now, had posted Instagram stories, saying the air and entire landscape had a yellow tint to them, due to the NorCal wildfires. I Googled it and apparently it's also affecting the air quality in the town of my university. I had applied for school in New York and got in, then changed my plans due to the political situation of the USA, and now this happens. I want to be either cryogenically frozen and woken up from my slumber when the Earth is at a sustainable period, or tbh I want to fuck it all and move to Greenland (?) or the Bahamas (???) or I don't know, anywhere that's not affected by pandemics and climate change. 

If this is how you've been feeling, you're not alone. Also, I've signed up for a mental health first aider course at work, as well as done some reading on it on my own. If you're struggling, you may approach me and I will try to help you. We can sit in this dumpster fire of a world together. It's not fine, and it's okay if you don't feel it's fine, because it's not.

OCCAM'S RAZOR

So I don't know if you've seen, but on one of my recent posts I received this comment:

Hello! I am one of those who read your blog and I have never responded because shy. But since you said you would like people to message you, here I am. It's very interesting to watch a malay girl with a common malay face pretend with all her might to be white! Don't so yaya la okay?

If you're not Singaporean, you may not know that yaya means pretentious, my friend Tami who's Indonesian asked me what it meant so I thought I'd just clarify. I read the comment and I was a little confused, so I created an Instagram story poll asking if I was yaya/pretentious. All the responses (95%) said I'm not, except for one. It was just a random account with no followers or whatever, and this account also began to leave strange sarcastic comments on my older Instagram posts, asking if I was "mixed, because the photo was gorgeous" or highlighting that I have a shallow personality. Seeing as the account only appeared after I'd created the poll in response to the comment, I'm going to do the obvious and think it's the same person who'd left the blog comment, that owns the Instagram account.

I think the nature of the comments was slightly strange, but I'll just give it the time of day since I'm already writing this. The commenter took offence that for a Malay person with a common Malay face, I pretend with all my might to be white. As far as I recall, I've never tried to look white, or not-Malay. I don't even speak with a "white accent", I think I have quite an obvious Malay accent and I don't try to mask it, so I really am not sure what they mean. I guess this person doesn't know me in real life, which is a huge relief, because I wouldn't want someone I personally know to think such things about me. Next, I actually think Malay people are attractive and have attractive features, so if I have a common Malay face, I'm going to take it as a compliment, thank you for that? If they meant that with a common Malay face, I'm actually unattractive, then there's something problematic in that. This person is either not Malay and is racist against Malays, or they are Malay and self-hating. Either way, I don't understand it. 

Also, this person created a fake Instagram account to comment anonymously on my older posts. That takes dedication and effort. I'm guessing that they haven't told their close friends or family members that they started the account to leave such comments. In that case, whatever I write about or however my behaviour, I'm going to go ahead and say that I'm at the very least living my truth with more volition and freedom than they are. I cannot imagine putting in so much energy into disliking someone that I'd have to carve out sessions to hate on them, away from my own social life. 

When I shared the comments on my Instagram, most of my friends said this was likely to be a teenager's work. If they are a teenager, then perhaps I'll let them grow out of it, like a toddler going through their Terrible Twos. However, if this person is older than a teenager and is closer to my age of thirty, then it's really high time someone told them that they are an unhappy person. I don't know how or why they are unhappy, but they are. Happy people don't put in energy into being mean and nasty to other people, and happy people would also know this method does not work. If they felt safe and secure about themselves, they would know that no matter what anyone else said, their own self-worth and what they think of themselves is what matters. All this to say, the person who commented does not feel safe and secure, and doesn't know what it means, to feel safe and secure about themselves as a person. 

I was going to let it slide after the Instagram comments, but today a comment popped up on a much older post, and this time it was attacking my intelligence as well as my... sexual worth? I'd blogged about Mochi falling and breaking her leg, two years ago, and the person went all the way back to comment on it. 

"I’m still lowkey pissed that she stupidly lost her balance and fell from the window ledge, if she did"

But you don't think you are high key stupid for not meshing your house before adopting a cat? You act like you are damn clever but your writing and your attitude shows you're just another immature moron dying to believe she's unique. No wonder all the men you've dated before humped and dumped you.

Now, I'm an immature moron dying to believe I'm unique. Also, that's why all the men I've dated before humped and dumped me. I'm not sure why the phrase of choice was "humped and dumped" me, as if it matters that I've had many sexual relations in my life. Is this person... a conservative? Is there something they think is inherently shameful about having sexual experiences? I don't know, but also weird of them to assume they know why I was dumped. I could ask all my exes now if that's really why, but somehow I think they would have nicer things to say about me than this person does.

Whatever the actual motivation is, I would like to say: please see a therapist. You may not be able to see or accept it now, but everything you say is more reflective of your issues than of mine. It's clear to everyone apart from you. I do not know who you are, and it can stay that way. I don't know why you've chosen to have a personal vendetta against me and revolved your feelings around my life. It does seem that no matter what actions I take, you will be bitter about it and I'm unable to provide a reason why. However, I think you should share your misgivings about me and your actions towards me with at least two loved ones whom you really trust, and ask for their advice. I have no way of verifying that you do, as I don't know your identity, but this is really not for me. Whether you go to therapy or seek help, it will not affect me. I'm living my life the way I want to, but your obsession with hating me is truly unhealthy, and I do think you will only be happy, when you've let go, and learned what your own issues are. I'm guessing your immediate reaction to this would be to lash out against my suggestion that you seek help, and perhaps your anonymous comments will proliferate. I actually strongly hope you give it time and think of yourself, and not of me, regarding this matter. In the long run, it would benefit you and your life much more if you paid attention to your own feelings and your own actions instead of mine. The attention you crave for yourself has to originate from you taking care of yourself, and not from provoking a person with mean words. I wish you well. This is the last comment I will be making a note of, because I prefer to expend my energy on things that serve me well. 

VACUUM

I had a rather eventful morning. We arrived at the store to find that a pipe had burst in the mall. The escalators and elevators weren't working, and our store was flooded. We were in crisis management mode, we watched as the electrician fiddled with the power boards, we used bowls to scoop out water from beneath the floorboards. Our floorboards are wooden, and I think they got quite waterlogged, because you could feel them being soggy and uneven when walking on them. This year has refused to let up on us. It was interesting to see that there are vacuum cleaners that suck up water, and they were used to dry up our store of the flood. They reminded me of the fact that I will soon have to vacuum-pack my clothes into my suitcases so as to fit in more things efficiently. Tonight is one of those nights I feel slightly anxious and panicky about Canada. What if they don't understand what I'm saying? What if it's too cold and I get depressed? What if my schoolmates are too young and into TikTok and I am left behind? Then I tell myself it's okay to feel scared of new environments, and also to be aware that I'm probably getting my period in two days. I'll feel depressed but then my body will say SikE! Lol I'm prepared for it.

BIG SUR

I've got an early morning for a shift tomorrow and I've got some ingredients prepared for special easy breezy toast, as well as an iced chai latte from CBTL in the fridge to help me wake up. It's been some pretty good few days. I love having stuff prepared for breakfast. Today I was looking through Spotify and it makes me so happy that, when I'm not listening to Taylor Swift, I have the option of listening to all sorts of music from everywhere, I can listen to playlists of white noise for studying, music that accompanies rain, sounds for sleep. You name it, and Spotify usually has it. I think we've progressed so rapidly that it's easy to forget how far we've come. I remember the days of using Kazaa or Limewire to download song by song in mp3s. Kids these days would not relate! It's so wild that the world is accessible now. All we have to do is push for that accessibility to reach everyone, after giving them basic necessities like housing, clean water, access to medicine, etc.

A couple of days ago, my sisters and I were watching Jeopardy because they released some new seasons on Netflix. Jeopardy is my favorite game show and I think I'm pretty good at it because I know a little bit of trivia from all sorts of backgrounds. I keep telling them that if I appeared on an episode of Jeopardy, winning just one game (average of $20,000 given away in an episode) would really help me out. My sisters said I could try out for any game show, not just Jeopardy, so they suggested this inane, silly and hilarious show The Floor Is Lava, where you literally try not to fall into lava while navigating a tricky room full of hazards. The prize for The Floor Is Lava is $10,000 per team though, and I said $10,000 isn't enough because if we split it among the three of us sisters (the other one wasn't watching with us), it would only be $3,500 each. Both of them then said they wouldn't want to split it equally, knowing that I'm in debt for school, and they said I could treat them to a nice meal. I was so touched by this, I went to sleep after shedding a few tears. It doesn't matter that the entire thing is hypothetical, my family is not rich and $10,000 would make a huge difference to my 24- and 17-year-old sisters. The fact that they offered to participate in an imaginary game show to help me out with my educational finances, I think is very sweet and mature of them, and I hadn't expected it from them. They're really cute, I can't believe they all used to be babies and now they're thinking of helping me out.

A lot to be grateful for, and I'm grateful for that.

I CHING

A couple of nights ago, I was doing a box shift with a new colleague, Millie. She's a theatre performer who was acting in London before she had to come back to Singapore due to COVID. She heard me listen to Burn on my break, so during our boxes shift (when there are only lululemon staff in store), she played the Hamilton soundtrack and we sang and rapped together. She has a lovely voice, obviously, being a performer, and I was so happy to be talking to her. She told me about The Last Five Years, another musical that sounds absolutely heartbreaking, I think I'm going to love it so I'm going to have a listen to the soundtrack. There's also a film version with Anna Kendrick that Millie doesn't have the best impression of, so I won't be watching that yet. The concept sounds fascinating, it starts at two different points of the timeline in a relationship, so for the woman, the play commences at the end of the relationship, and for the man it starts at the beginning, and they only sing together on one song when their timelines intersect in the musical. I'm intrigued, and also preempting certain sadness at the story.

Last night, I visited Tami and her little baby Bima. He's just a little over a month old. When I arrived, he was being fed his night bottle of milk so I carried him and fed him the last half. He was adorable, so smol and his voice was gentle and soothing. He was gurgling enthusiastically and I melted. It's been such a good week. I am very grateful for it.

Tomorrow, I have a SYNC meeting, it's getting quite convoluted and I don't really like things that are messy so I feel a little iffy. Then I have to go to work because a girl has to pay her bills.

DRUNK UNDER A STREETLIGHT

vintage tee, brand new phone 

high heels on cobblestones 

when you are young,

they assume you know nothing 

sequin smile, black lipstick 

sensual politics 

when you are young, 

they assume you know nothing 

but I knew you 

dancing in your Levi's 

drunk under a streetlight, I 

I knew you 

hand under my sweatshirt 

baby, kiss it better, I

and when I felt like I was an old cardigan 

under someone's bed 

you put me on and said I was your favorite

a friend to all is a friend to none 

chase two girls, lose the one 

when you are young, 

they assume you know nothing 

but I knew you 

playing hide-and-seek and 

giving me your weekends, I 

I knew you 

your heartbeat on the High Line 

once in twenty lifetimes, I 

and when I felt like I was an old cardigan 

under someone's bed

you put me on and said I was your favorite 

to kiss in cars and downtown bars
was all we needed 

you drew stars around my scars 

but now I'm bleeding

'cause I knew you 

stepping on the last train 

marked me like a bloodstain, I 

I knew you 

tried to change the ending 

Peter losing Wendy, I 

I knew you 

leaving like a father 

running like water, I 

when you are young, 

they assume you know nothing 

but I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss 

I knew you'd haunt all of my what-ifs 

the smell of smoke would hang around this long 

'cause I knew everything when I was young 

I knew I'd curse you for the longest time 

chasing shadows in the grocery line 

I knew you'd miss me once the thrill expired 

and you'd be standing in my front porch light 

and I knew you'd come back to me 

you'd come back to me

you'd come back to me

you'd come back 

and when I felt like I was an old cardigan 

under someone's bed 

you put me on and said I was your favorite

AJ HACKETT

I went to Sentosa with Tif and suntanned for three hours. On hindsight, it maybe wasn't the best idea. We're both red, and I don't usually burn, I just get brown, but this time my skin feels raw and dry. Eeps. Yesterday was such good sunny weather, and the water was cooling without being cold, so I guess that's why we could splash about for that long. I put on sunblock but I'm not sure how effective it would have been against skin cancer. Only time will tell, eh. I also met another longtime friend for dinner and had such a lovely time catching up with her over easy conversation.

Tina has told me she'd get me a winter coat for Canada, and honestly, she feels like the big sister I never had. I mean, I'm very close to my cousin Hazwani but she's only a couple months older and I don't think she tries to be my elder sister. Tina, though, I really trust her like a big sister. I have seven younger siblings (who even still has seven siblings in this day and age?) and it feels nice not to feel like the oldest sometimes.

I'm on the way for a visual merchandising shift. I'm a little behind schedule, and may need to rush at the train station, but that's life.

ABBOT KINNEY

This morning Adam messaged me to say Hamilton is fine. I've known him two years and he wouldn't watch it at all, so I'll take what I can get!!!! He used to be a music critic (now working at Know Your Meme) and he says of Hamilton, musically it has its charms. It's the small wins, y'all. Take them where you can. 

I tried to coax some opinion of folklore out of him, but he hasn't listened to all of it. I thought he wouldn't actively hate on it, because some tracks off folklore were co-written with maybe the frontman (or guitarist? I dunno and don't actively care) of The National, and I know Adam lurrrrves The National. 

You know I had a few American boys (the Bens, Adam, Joey, etc) and the USA is not at its greatest right now, or anywhere near its greatest, so I tend to worry about these men in America. Sometimes I wonder if this is how a mother feels, I just wanna have a dashboard that says, they're all alive, and they're all okay. It helps when they intermittently text me to ask if I'm alive or to tell me about the things they know I listen to. Stay alive!!!!! (Hamilton reference that no one apart from myself will get, sigh.)

Sometimes I feel like people think I'm a.... social experiment, for lack of a more appropriate term. They read my words and view my Instagram stories, and they observe me, but rarely interact with me. It gets a bit lonely, being an Other. I don't really enjoy it, I wish I could extend my hand and have more people on my side. I would like it if more people were open about their mental health, or even just about their daily thoughts, and to fight for what's right on behalf of people who can't. I don't understand why it's such a novelty to be an open book. To such a point that I have to move literally across the world to find my tribe so I fit in. I'm a regular human bean, I enjoy memes, I can watch Selling Sunset on Netflix and appreciate the properties. A couple of nights ago, I met a friend from Lush, her name is Seri, and we had such a good time just laughing over past shitty Tinder dates.

I am on the way to work and the shift hasn't started but I'm grateful that Adam reached out, I'm grateful that my sister made toast for breakfast and my mother made steak for lunch, before I left for work.

TONIGHT YOU BELONG TO ME

The car I'm in has some really sombre melancholy string music playing and it's got me in a funk. Today I had a really nice two-hour chat with my mentor Val, and she said I provide a different perspective from anyone else's in the team. I made a jokey allusion that it could be that my brain is wired differently, due to my on and off depression. I used to really like rollercoasters and fast cars, but recently sometimes when I get into a car, my chest gets really constricted and I feel a fear, I don't know why. It's like I want to reach out to Joey to drive safely and ride safely. I think about this one time I was talking to Adam about Kafka, and I didn't know there was a writer Kafka, I thought it was just in the title of a book. I felt really embarrassed but at the same time I felt also soothed by his reaction to me. It felt like a friendly hug or him squeezing my hand. This happened while we were chatting across the world so it wasn't physically happening. Sometimes when you immerse yourself fully in any situation, it is difficult to separate the you that exists now from the you that was tangled with three, four, five men ago. I don't know if you know what Muslim or Catholic hangover is, or if I'm using it correctly, but having grown up two decades believing that at the very end of all this, I would be guaranteed a spot in eternal paradise, to switching to a mindset that when it ends, it just ends, gives me crippling anxiety at times. I want a salve to rub on my spiritual being, but I don't want to lie to myself with stretched out niceties. I think what cripples me about it ending when it ends, is the fact that this temporary place is so painful and broken. I wish people were just nice and good for the sake of being nice and good, to make this world a better place, to save someone else from their crippling anxiety, maybe. I wish there were no religions or rat races for money and accomplishments, but people helping people to get through the dreariness. I don't feel so good.

SMOKESCREEN

a rush, a glance 

a touch, a dance 

look in somebody's eyes 

to light up the skies 

to open the world and send it reeling 

a voice that says, "I'll be here" 

and you'll be alright 

Last week, Jayden sent me a message for a work stint, and y'all know your girl has to always be hustling so I said yes. He owns a production studio and was being filmed for a docuseries for CNA (it's the Asian version of CNN) and needed a model for a photoshoot. When you're the model for a shoot, they call you a talent, although I needed no talent at all. I was just born with the looks they needed. 

The inspiration for my makeup was 60's Twiggy, and my makeup artist was Benji. I loved his work on my face and hair. Honestly, I wonder why they don't call the makeup artists the talents instead, because they are way more talented with what they do. There are few things more luxurious than going for a shoot and having yourself prepped by a makeup artist and fashion stylist.

That's Josiah the stylist. It was my second time working with him, and we had so much more fun this time, maybe because I was the only model and we had more chances for interaction. I really like working with Jayden and Josiah. I think they're very conscious of cultural connotations, and every time Josiah wanted to put something on me, he'd verify whether I had ethnic ties to the accessory (like a nose ring and chain, for example). If they were taking photos of me with a cloth on my head, if it looked like a hijab, they'd style it differently, because despite being a Malay, I do not identify as a Muslim. 

In this shoot, we had three different shots and concepts, but with three different things raining on me. The first one was sparks, so Josiah stood overhead behind a partition and held sparklers that sparked down on me. I was super happy that happened, because I'd missed Singapore's National Day fireworks the previous week, but now I had my own personal ones raining down on me, and the shots looked fucking ace.

The second one was glitter confetti. It was a retro vibey concept, and for a couple of the shots, the confetti actually caught the glint of the camera flash and fell at the perfect angle near my outreached palm, to look like a diamond sparkling in the photo. The moment the snapped photo was reflected on the monitor, we all looked at it and it really looked like the photo had already been DI'ed (agency speak for editing with Illustrator). 

For shots of things raining on you, they obviously do it more than once, just to get the best option. Josiah and Xuan (the other makeup artist) collected the confetti once it had fallen onto the floor, to drop them on me once again. As the confetti was glittering like diamonds, Josiah encouraged me by saying it was a vision of my future, with riches and luxuries raining down on me.

Jayden was directing my poses while taking the photos, because if you've forgotten, I'm not actually a model. He kept saying "broken wrist, soft fingers" and one of the producers, Ami also kept saying the same thing and flicking her wrist up and down, and honestly, everything was hilarious and I had to keep from laughing just so they would get some useable shots. When she sent me the release form, Ami signed off her email with broken wrist, soft fingers, and I LIVE FOR IT!!!!!!

The last shot was with water, and they played Rihanna's Umbrella.

In between one of the shots, we were filming scenes for the B-roll, which is just extra scenes they can intersperse with regular footage, just in case of shortage. Jayden and Josiah were styling my outfit while I just stood there like a dummy, but then Josiah felt a tiny scroll-like thing in one of my blouse's sleeves, so he said it could have been a message from a child worker in India, saying "please save me" and from that point on, I could not stop laughing at the idea. I ruined the entire B-roll, they were always trying to have a conversation and I burst into laughter at the thought of it. 

Also, they used a sliding camera to pan in and out while filming the photoshoot (how fucking meta is that), and I had to glance right into the filming camera, and right there and then, I felt it. It was my Taylor Swift moment. I WAS BASICALLY TAYLOR SWIFT!!!!!!!

Josiah sent me a message yesterday to tell me that it was just a piece of a broken hanger that had fallen into the blouse. Dang. I thought we could go on a rescue mission to save a child worker. Or perhaps it's better that no child workers were involved in the making of our shoot. 

The entire lights, camera, action of it all made me think of La La Land. I cannot wait till the shots are ready. They are honestly fantastic, without even needing to be touched up. The concepts and planning were stunning. Back to regular programming. Remember, when you're taking photos: it's all in the broken wrist and soft fingers. 

WE WERE MERELY FRESHMEN

I just ended my therapy session. I talked about how irritable I've been. Lucas was late to meet me last weekend and I lost my temper. I've never liked when people arrive late, I think it's irresponsible and being responsible and accountable is kinda one of my criteria of being a decent human being. However, in the past week or so, I've been just tired out from work. I've taken up more shifts than originally allocated because I need to save the money. Working at my job is physically tiring, I'm on my feet for seven hours, and our masks always have to be on. The fact that I have to wear a mask the entire time already adds a discomfort and ensures shallow breathing for half my day, but what takes the cake is seeing crowds of people who don't follow protocol for social distancing, who wear their masks the incorrect way of only covering their mouths, etc. I don't like people who make light of the pandemic, we've seen thousands of unnecessary deaths, and if you insist on doing your shopping in person instead of the online options that are readily available, at the very least do your part to keep yourselves and the people around you safe. My therapist came up with five methods to check in with myself when I'm on the floor working, I must remember to try them out and check back in with her on their efficacies. 

For some reason, this morning I thought of something I'd heard from Khalis when we were much younger. He's a Muslim, and at the time we had this conversation, I think I was questioning religion and faith. Khalis said he'd watched a video in which scientists played a Muslim prayer or gospel song, and measured the heart rates of control groups of people, finding out that the Muslim prayer had a calming effect and that the people were "at peace". He brought it up as if it was conclusive evidence that Islam was the one true faith, and that even science could back it up. I looked at him, with what I'm pretty sure was puzzlement, and let it go, but what I was thinking was, that's not a scientific experiment. Or at least the results are not very conclusive of much. They didn't play any other religious tunes or hymns from any other faiths to compare the results with, they didn't play even non-religious songs in comparison. For all you know, it could just be that the prayers were low-pitched, and low-pitched sounds from any instrument and in any language would have calming effects. Khalis is a Malay man, though, and if there's one thing I know about Malay men, they hate being proven wrong by Malay women, so I kept quiet. Why am I thinking about that now? Who knows.

NOTICE ME, SENPAI

My family has just arrived home after a drive to a 24-hour supermarket. We went together because my sister Lyssa has just passed her driving test and received her licence today. We had our parents, my other sister Aqilah and I, all trying to advise her on the drive, on the freeway, to the slope up the mall carpark, to doing U-turns. It was an entire hour of anxiety and cortisol, so I'm allowing my body some time to return to its baseline, which to be honest, is probably always pumped with more adrenaline and cortisol than found at most other people's baselines. When I am in Canada, I hope my sisters come over and take turns to drive. It will hopefully be safer in my university town and the rest of Vancouver Island, I know Singapore is just overcrowded with people and vehicles. 

Today at work, someone said my perfume smelled peculiar, and I found the remark peculiar, as well as interesting. I was wearing my Twilight body spray from Lush, which is a relaxing, comforting scent made of lavender and tonka, something akin to vanilla. Everyone else at work had said today they loved it, and they knew it because it's a signature scent from Lush, and I wear it occasionally anyways. The reason I found the remark peculiar, is because it came from my boss, and I've always liked the scent she uses, but I've never been able to place it, nor have I been able to ask her what it is. I really like her scent, but I don't know if it's because her perfume is a nice one, or because I find her very attractive. I'm still a tiny bit intimidated by her, which I think a lot of us are, and I don't know if that plays into the power dynamics as well. She has a girlfriend, and I'm also in a relationship. However, I'm mature enough to admit that being in a relationship does not prevent attraction to other people, as well as to acknowledge that repressing any thoughts and feelings would just strengthen them. My boss is also a spin instructor, and I work at lululemon, so you can expect the entire team to be fit and strong and overwhelmingly attractive. Everyone has such tight and toned bodies, and it is very hard to deny their physical allure. Today, as friends, she asked whether we liked boobs or butts, and I'm pretty sure I went around trying to stabilize my heart rate after the superior I'm attracted to was asking me that. Sometimes I literally stutter at work because I'm surrounded by such fit people. This is rather unlike me, y'all know I'm an extrovert and I'm usually very sociable. I have now been relegated to being the beta. I suppose the time had to come, lolol.

TITANS

In a recurring dream, I absorb the feelings and energy of everyone in the world. Every single dissatisfaction, every joy, I absorb all the vibes and then there is an explosion once I have absorbed it all. The explosion is a cold blue, and nothing breaks or physically moves. I think people and animals die more from the aftershock than the initial wave. The explosion wipes out all living things on Earth, and then there is peace. It feels like something I have seen on Heroes. I don't recall the storyline of that show, except that Hayden Panettiere is a cheerleader and I think the wiping-out scene is about her. I think. I find dreams very hard to describe, perhaps because they are not always lucid or easy to explain, nor bound by the laws of physics. I wish I could connect to a program that could display my thoughts, exactly as I visualize them. There must be a way this is already happening. I don't know what the dream means, maybe I just think it's a cool scene visually. Maybe.

I walked past a few schoolkids on my way to work today. They were talking about who they thought would get the top score in History in their class. I remember those days in my life. I wonder if those are the conversations that will happen in my near future. Will it be as competitive? Will it be more collaborative, given our subject of study? A year ago, I was in Japan. I am really looking forward to a year from now. Tina asked whether I was going to be in Canada for winter this year because she's planning gifts, and I think this is the cutest thing ever. It feels so adult, I don't know why. It reminds me of when white kids are asked by their mothers to write thank-you notes for their gifts.

SAFETY CAR

Last weekend, I learned a lot of things. I learned about Abella Anderson, Mia Khalifa, and gloryholes. If you don't know what those mean, don't Google them because I don't want that to be on me. I ordered truffle butter to be fancy, and Sue asked me to look up truffle butter on urban dictionary, so now I know what that is. Now, every time I spread truffle butter on my bread, I will think of something else. Yesterday was Singapore's National Day, which is when we gained independence from the British. It's only the 55th National Day. I worked the entire day, and I was absolutely flat-out broken by the end of the shift. You'd think, given that people have been working from home for months, a long weekend wouldn't actually mean anything, but we were still overworked on the retail front. Working on a public holiday can really break your spirit, and it's not worth the 1.5x pay, at all. After work, we went to Mount Faber to catch the fireworks. There were many other people there, I suppose because we had all Googled the best place to view fireworks from. We went to the peak of it (not actually very elevated but relative to the rest of Singapore, it's a peak), but I think the locations of the fireworks were changed because they know people were gonna be at home due to social distancing measures. Thus, although we were the closest to the sky, we saw none of the fireworks, only orange tints behind buildings, and heard the sounds. So typical of Singapore. I feel like they know I see nothing special here, so there were no fireworks for me. Sigh. I'm in a car to work now, I had and have no energy to deal with public transit. It's still a public holiday and I'm still working, so please pray for my soul. I actually don't believe in prayers, so it would be nice if you just dropped cash into my account, thanks. I haven't even gotten to work but I just wanna get back home to have a nice, long, relaxing, pampering shower, so I look forward to that. Also, if someone could just remind me to bring home my truffle butter from the work fridge, that would be perfect. *chef's kiss*