o boy

So I'm in a house with two other families and i am also a family
It makes me feel weird being surrounded by this, I'm a mom and i should act accordingly?
what does that even mean
It's so crazy here with four other kids
I kind of hate it

Who am i!

there are portions of myself that i never wanted and never asked for
i grew up in a household of Chinese immigrants with burgeoning expectations of how a female should behave.
I can't sit like that, don't eat like that, laugh too loud, i'm too much
I've always been too much
fuck that
now that i'm a parent i hope to not fuck up my kid with hopeful expectations
she shouldn't be anything i want her to be. I can hope but i cant put my shit on her
I have so much shit how do i even dodge that shit
I have her now and i love her so much but sometimes i just want to snort mountains of coke and trip on acid for three fucking days
god i miss that
my blood ran deep the other way
who am i now if not self destructive?
Now that i can't implode what do i do?
im fucking responsible now
what the fuck does that even mean
this is the first time in a long time i don't have some sort of substance in my blood
how do i stay stable?
all my life i've been told what to do and how to do it and i rebelled so much
stayed out too long, smoked too much, pumped everything into my body
now i've stopped

I've just stopped
My propensity for extremes will fucking kill me one day.

Now what?

I seem to post in this blog once every lifetime.
I'm married now, I have two children: a little baby girl and a little girl mutt dog.
My life is so complicated now but not
In terms of the checklists that society demands of us i pretty much have all the things
so this is what that feels
i remember being little and wondering what my life was going to look like
would i ever find a partner? would i ever get married? why would i?
who was this partner? would i ever have children?
His name is will and yes i have child.
it's a void that i fell into and i don't feel accomplished by it by any means
it's most certainly not the checklists
it's more of experiences, yet another lifetime among a million lifetimes accumulated to be who i am? maybe not that sounds like bullshit

so i have a kid
i married the love of my life
i have the dog
i have the goddamn washer and dryer
but not really, technically we're homeless
it's less complicated that way.

dear you,

you were infinitely disappointing and lost beyond my understanding
then again, i painted this image of who i was hoping for you to be
it's usually me
hoping
so what is it
am i waiting for too much, hoping to fill an unattainable void, a figment that doesn't exist?
it's not you, it's always me

love
forever waiting, forever hopeful

the seed

a little asian girl walked hand and hand down the street with her father.
she stared at this homeless man, slumped down, defeated, a shell of existence.
she stared at him, mouth agape, hand loosening from her father and her little body tensed and stayed still.
this was the moment
she decided what kind of person she wanted to be and she lept.
she shuffled around reaching for her pocket, walking towards the man
she stared
she scurried towards him, grasping onto her prize, determined, knowing…
this man needs my prize, my money, and she went
her father grabbed her arm quickly and hastily, pulling her back into the crowd and she lunged
he rattled off adult words and overtook her characteristic gesture.
she faught what little strength she had, she kicked.
her father took her back and her eyes stared
she stared and i hoped so hard that she kept that part of her, and that she would keep it forever.
regardless of the world she would always hope and see.

dear vicki

hey vicki. i hope you are somewhere you are happy and warm and full. i think about you everyday. i wonder if you think of me too. i wonder how lonely you were and i think about how lonely i was too but i never reached out to you. Remember when we were kids? I hope grandma is making you dumplings and telling you to pick up after yourself and putting rollers in her hair and falling asleep sitting up. please know that you are missed and i love you so much. i got a tattoo vicki, it's an octopus. i thought of you. it was my first time scuba diving and i saw an octopus, it could have been a squid but who knows. i love it and i thought of you and i thought you would love it too. i wish i had something of yours. anything. a stupid shirt or a hat or something. i looked on your Facebook page this morning, people love you so much. nobody hates you, they understand and they miss you. life goes on but they still think about you and i love that. i still cry when i think of you. i love you so much. i miss you. your cousin

City living

So, city life is amazing.
Everyday I walk down the street and see something untraditionally beautiful.
a jello tinfoil top discarded and crumpled into the shape of a heart. Then a block down the discarded clear plastic cup that used to belong to that crumpled top, toppled over with remnants of red left.
I love that I gauge distance with blocks.
I see things differently now.
There is no nature here but there is. The ground here is torn up and covered hundreds of times and smoothed over.
There is human and dog shit riddled all over the ground. Smears of it slowly disintegrating under peoples unknown footsteps until it becomes an ambiguous repulsive stain. To walk here is to dodge and pivot.
My parents used to cringe and hastily tell us to get up, get up the ground is disgusting in our country home where the ants crawled along our fingers and the lawn was manicured to our specifications. I used to tell them to stop, it's fine, the ground is comfortable but they first came to america and lived in new york city. In the 70s and 80s when NYC was disgusting and unruly and terrible. Of all the things I think about, I think about how much shit must have been covering the ground. Nobody sits on the ground here except for the homeless and the labor workers. I think about my parents equating sitting on the ground to being dirty and homeless and poor and struggling and i understand now. The world i lived in was safe and clean and altered to our specifications.
So now i live in this world and i wonder if i'll do the same thing, even in a manicured world.