ivory face.

the decision to be with someone should never be made from negation. that someone should never be 'not bad' and your answer should never be 'why not' (pardon all these double negatives). instead, it should feel like a complementary growth to your life; as though suddenly, delightfully, you've extra arms that are helpful, beautiful and have made your life easier, more understood. you're afraid at first because you must gash yourself open and let your blood run free before these arms are attached. the resulting pain is quite physical in this way. and then there are other pains like being afraid again because you fear the deformity of your prior self and the possibility of over-reliance on these new limbs. you still want to be you. but there is no decision in which avoidance is an option. you won't allow that, there is no flight. in actuality, it feels easy, and it almost is. yet in thought, alone (and even once shared, this fear remains alone as it is alone in nature, inherent and conscious), it is the opposite. you imagine the growth as a sickness that seeps into your body and worms through your skin, your flesh, digs deeper still, reaches your very bone marrow and left centre then leaves you; ribs on display, magnified in nakedness like a living corpse sucking in breath. so vile a complication it seems to be yet nothing can blacken your wide, overbearing grin. because you feel as light as you are afraid. and terrifyingly welcoming, embracing, like a pervert craving normalcy. this new addition is beyond you. and it is all so very, hysterically delightful.   

moving

we have been allotted  inconsistency, hesitation, doubt, pain, superstition, worries about what will happen (even after we are dead), ambition, greed, jealousy, envy, unruly, insane and untameable appetites, war, lies, disloyalty, backbiting and curiosity. We take pride in our fair, discursive reason and our capacity to judge and to know, but we have bought them at a price which is strangely excessive. (Montaigne)

lately is moving day into an elevator full of jolts and quivers.

i'm learning how valuable it is to be open as i feel myself close more and more each day. i know, it's not a fucking seesaw but i'm trying okay. i feel myself becoming excessively repetitive - they most likely won't surprise what you expect, they most likely will be disappointing. but people need chances. they need to be lifted out of their moulds for us to make out their melted selves. this sticky hope is what's been on my mind. because at the end of your day, being unforgiving is harsh only on your own throat and closing the door is just spending too many days in the company of only yourself. in an unreal reality of mine, this would be wonderful. but we're built for connection. we've got brains that lust and long, we've got bodies shivering with touch.

at some point you've just got to start making changes and applying yourself like a variable. perhaps laugh at the stupid rules we've fashioned to make social interactions difficult and play along. you never know what you'll find.  

but did you try?

Lately life has tossed me a few fuck you's and it's bottled me up and confused me. I've been wading through my reflections trying to surface to clearer waters but emotions are a funny thing. They're like oils on glass you can't fucking scrub clean. So anyway, it's been hard to convey an authentic answer to "how are you" and harder still trying to interpret what that means. I recently became quite upset which translated to anger and quickly escalated to some kind of pompous feeling of injustice but it seems now, that I've slowed and thought and really pushed myself against my slimy complaints that I realise I was wrong. My injustices were correct but insignificant in the scope of happenings. You don't have to be wrong to be wrong. My anger was unnecessary. My emotions, misdirected. I think what we need to realise is that when a person suddenly acts unreasonable or strangely menacing to the comfort that usually cuddles your relationship, our first reaction may be negative but our second begs for more thought. Sometimes this unreasonableness is a call for help, a signal of loneliness or a way of escape. Sometimes this comes from the most unlikely person. But it's important to recognise these things because no one is ever that strong and instead of hearing "you're selfish" and springing up your defence shield, maybe what we need to do is simply to keep listening to hear a surprising "I need you". Maybe that so called negativity should be forgiven and understood instead. It isn't every day we're given choices or even opportunities to prove to our loved ones how much we care and will show that care. It isn't something we can always learn from experience. But it is important to seize those moments, expand our hearts and to show that even though we might not know how, we will anyway. That simple phrase, it's the thought that counts, is all it is. So this year will be one in which I stop escaping my problems at home and support my family. It's the bed I sleep in, the voices I hear all day and the people who try their best to support me, who know I love kale so they buy me bouquets of it, who listen to my complaints and solve my problems, who take blame for the bad things that happen to me and who see me in my most ugly state of uncaring, uninhibitedly shameless me yet still love me. It is family at the heel of my every step and family where I park my car and rest. These things that matter, there are many, but in this present moment I feel nothing more significant than the desire to be with my family this year. I will be present, I will share, I will be patient, I will love. 

e.g. life

it's a very funny thing to be informed of someone dying. things become systematic, logical, factual. i called work, i took a shower, i cancelled my dinner plans, i turned on my laptop, i didn't know what to do with my hands. i remember reading an article on the psychology of suicide notes and how real ones repeat mundane facts like 'please feed my cat at 3pm' rather than 'i miss and love you'. death, like anything, is easier dealt with when divorced from emotion. 

it feels like any other morning yet it feels inappropriate to continue watching sex and the city or to scroll mindlessly on facebook. i've never lost anyone before. i've never felt what it is to hear my own mother dearest cry like that. it isn't as though i'm unfamiliar with death, it's that death has never been relevant to me. i booked flights to china. i'm not going. i tried to talk to mum about things but when i went into her room she was googling appropriate funeral wear on her ipad so i sat on the bed and helped her pick a black dress for a winter day. i continued to sit there, watching her wipe down benches, sweep the floors, take out the trash, do the laundry and despite all the noise, we both felt the quiet. "do you want to lie down?" "no". she was struggling to be busy which was just like her father to do. he never understood rest; he was childlike, excitable and full of ways to make the toughest teeth laugh. he was straight like a mean bullet and never depended on anything/body except the cigarettes he swapped for sugar. i've never met anyone so full of quirks, soft drinks and ice cream. 

i whipped up a green smoothie and for once, mum didn't complain and drank it all. dad came home and they went out to buy last minute things, they returned with bags stuffed with food for my brother and i, tim tams, emu oil and 14 blocks of butter. did you know butter is terribly expensive in beijing? i packed it away. i packed mum's luggage too because i like doing it and mum was crying again because my grandma messaged her that she missed her. after that mum told me her eyes hurt but i know it isn't her eyes. i wish i had eyedrops to soothe her stings, or the ability to stop tearing every time i look at her. 

lao ye,
i won't say rest in peace. instead, i hope your departure felt warm and with love, i hope the sugar you consumed so ridiculously had seeped into the marrow of your bones and left you feeling nothing but sweetness. for everyone who's path you came tumbling into, you brought laughter so breathless, so unique. my skin's been burned twice in my existence, once from your cigarette, once from your cooking. one scar remains on my left hand, and with that hand i'll never deny a chance to seize opportunity for laughter, change and strength in the way you did. thank you for being a great example of a life lived, thank you for having being part of my life. i love you. 

Louis.

 “I’m bored” is a useless thing to say. I mean, you live in a great, big, vast world that you’ve seen none percent of. Even the inside of your own mind is endless, it goes on forever, inwardly, do you understand? The fact that you’re alive is amazing, so you don’t get to say “I’m bored.”

- Louis CK.

I fucking love everything that comes out of this man's mouth, chewed up cinnabon bits included.