This Isnt Even In A Like. ‘doomed By The Narrative, Im Always Miserable’ Kind Of Thing. Like Im Happy

NO FUCKING WAYYYYYYYYY

you think you’re over it but then you hear the two songs you played on repeat all throughout that one detached-from-reality-summer where u saw him day and night, and everything becomes a little blurry. you’re over it until you pass the bench by the sidewalk, the two people in love only a few feet away from you but in a world completely of their own, and you remember how you sobbed under the streetlights, pretending your pain was just brought about by something or the other. 

you’re fine until you pass by that one corner in the library. you remember how you woke up from a nap that felt like death, the table leaving imprints on your tired face. you remember seeing someone else in a haze, and feeling exhausted and alone, away from home. you remember doing a double take, seeing his face, his voice low the way he’d talk to someone in need of tender care and affection. “did you think we’d just leave you alone like that? im right here, yeah?”

 you tell yourself you’re over him and that you’re fine. you honestly are, really. until you’re playing with your mother’s hair, and you catch a scene from her soap drama. its a girl on the phone with her friend, her closest, with pain laced so deeply in her voice its a miracle no one hears it. “hey, its alright. he was yours to begin with. all that? just one-sided delusions. wishful thinking. i give you my blessing, so make sure you’re happy enough for the both of us. its no one’s fault, is it? love can’t be earned if you’re pitiful enough, if you wish for someone enough. it just happens.” you don’t notice what you’re remembering, which hazy memory, but you know your eyes burn and your throat is holding back a tight, lead-like lump. you know there are burning, red-hot tears streaming down your face on an uneventful summer afternoon.

 you know you’re never going to find someone like that again. you know that even if you do, by some twisted curse of fate, they won’t be yours. you know because you knew this before, before he happened, before you met him. you knew what your person would be like, and you knew it wouldn’t happen for you.

 you’re sitting in a crowded campus bus, golden light spilling in. you’re next to your best friend, and you tell her “you know? i know for sure i won’t find someone like him. i’ll get married, i’ll settle, but it’ll never be like that.” 

she tells you she knows, in the depths of her heart and soul, that you’ll find love. you’ll find someone who fits with you even better than him. you let her have it. you let yourself pretend for a few minutes, but you know, in the depths of your heart.

 you know you have such good luck with everything else, you know you can get out of the worst situations unscathed, you know the corner store always has a stock of your favorites, you know you’re blessed with a little mundane magic because the universe knows you’re never going to get the form of love you’ve always wondered about, always craved.

you’re fine until you remember, and then you force yourself to be fine once again.

yeah no offense to confucius or anything but if i was about to embark on a journey of revenge i would simply not dig two graves

I love characters that are completely harmless until they finally unleash their power and then they’re TERRIFYING

day 212 | *cue laugh track* [id in alt]

bathroom sink meditations, r.a. @boyfig

Every time I mention shopping online at whatever website

Some Fool; “Oh but you’ve gotta be really careful with that!”

Me, a 48th level blackbelt of buying things online; “Yes I am aware. I always check the seller rating and history and see how long they’ve been in business. Which is why I have never had a bad experience with them.”

That Same Fool, twelve seconds later; “Oh look at this cute thing I just bought on Wish!”

Me; oh my god

i don’t know how to say these things in a nice way because my nerves have been fried for quite some time and i’m basically running on empty right now but i wanted to write about anti-asian sentiment, and more specifically, how people can address it.

there are a lot of posts with a lot of notes going around coming from very well-meaning people about how we can combat anti-asian sentiment by fighting cultural appropriation or stopping insults about food and whatnot, and i understand the impulse, but the fact is this: anti-asian sentiment is rooted in white supremacy, in colonialism, and in imperialism, and those things cannot be stopped by simply teaching people to say our names correctly.

if you want to end anti-asian sentiment, we must end white supremacy and imperialism. if you want to end white supremacy and imperialism, you must learn about the histories of white supremacy and imperialism— not only in asia, but across the world. it is crucial that we, as asians, unite ourselves with other colonized people to fight these systems. i invite others to move past the badge of allyship and truly learn what it means to commit yourself to the fight against white supremacy and imperialism, and then do it. 

now, more specifically: when we think about the 8 people who were killed in atlanta this week, we understand that they were targeted because of their asianness, yes, even knowing that all who died were not asian— but they were targeted also because of their class, the line of work they were in, their migration status, their gender. the women who were murdered were at particular risk because they were working-class migrant women who worked in a massage parlor, and who may have been s*x w*rk*rs. this is absolutely crucial to understand! you cannot understand their deaths as being separate from war crimes committed by the united states in vietnam, or from the sex tourism industry in southeast asia.

even when we think about the spate of attacks on asians on the street, or at the train station, or on public transit, who is being targeted? the majority of these attacks are on working-class, low-income migrant elders. there are other attacks, still, that i have heard that have targeted asian women specifically. these, too, are acts of violence tied to white supremacy and imperialism. so understanding this– if a white man approaches me, or my sister, or my migrant neighbors with intent to harm us, what good does it do if he is educated about how to pronounce my name, or if he knows how to use chopsticks respectfully? 

these are just some thoughts i am having that i think are missing from the conversation, at least on this website. thank you for reading if you have gotten this far. i hope this makes sense. i truly pray for the downfall of imperialism every single day.

if you are looking for places to learn more, or to donate, please check out the following organizations. i am in new york, so some of these orgs will be local to me, but i have tried to include national orgs i know of that are doing good work. thank you.

Nodutdol – donation link for NYC-based community organization of Koreans in the US against war and militarism

Desis Rising Up and Moving (DRUM) – donation link for NYC-based org of South Asian and Indo-Caribbean working class people fighting for economic justice

BAYAN USA – USA-based alliance of grassroots organizations working towards national democracy in the Philippines. there is a donation link on their website. this is the overseas chapter– the main organization is in the Philippines. 

Red Canary Song – donation link for US-based grassroots collective of Asian migrant s/x w/rk/rs 

Butterfly – donation link for Toronto-based Asian and migrant s/x w/rk/rs network

Atlanta-area spa shootings fundraisers – GoFundMe donation links for families affected by the Mar 16 murders 

someone who loves you just told a sweet story about you. someone else just saw your favorite food in the store and almost bought it even though you’re far away. someone walked past your house and thought the garden looked nice. you are never as alone as you feel