再生產。

三件佳節冬季毛衣、兩件襯衫、兩雙鞋。我還在決定究竟我該帶《The Reification of Desire》上路還是完全不再管馬克斯跟酷兒的關係，就看Jonathan Franzen的小說就好。我總是這麼小心翼翼又興奮緊張地迎接超過五小時的飛行。好像在飛行中我可以丟掉或者暫時脫離我厭倦自己的一部份。那些必須迎合的、必須友善的、必須故作聰明的自己。其實有時我也只想貪懶在電視機前，看連續十集的HBO影集，吃光從冰島回來朋友送的杏仁巧克力。在過度的工作擠壓之下，沒有什麼文化是特別高尚的。我們每日必須做的不過是再生產自己的勞力。

我對於這個城市已經熟悉到需要短暫的分離，不時會想念起西岸的大型廉價超商和龐大環狀的高速高路。

休憩。沈澱。改革。創作。

cheers to the unknown.

I am facing a severe social burnt out. I cannot stand the small talks across hallway, the howareyous and the goods/okays/notbadness. I just want to hide in my own cave to heal the exhaustion from my own anxiety and the growing hostility toward people around me. The egos over meeting, the paternalistic gesture, the fucking superficial careerism. Sometimes I wonder I could ever feel close to another human being again without developing hidden agendas or unhealthy competitiveness. What I really want to do is to have a break for life. To read literatures. To write. To sleep without anxious dreams. To make love.

My second book is in the process of getting published and I am supposed to be ECSTATIC about it. But I am too afraid to fail in different aspects of my life to be fully committed. Though sometimes I feel art is the only pleasure left in my life and I should be more attentive and tender with it. I am practicing to read fictions again without skimming through key words and digging the theses of the author. I am learning again to enjoy a world of fantasies. Of imagination. At the end that should be what happiness is--the unknown. To not know what the future will look like. To have multiple possibilities.

I notice that I only write when I feel angry/sad/blah. What I really need to do is bring art back to my life. Even just small things. Like the poems in a 30 minute subway ride. Like a text message while walking cross town. I should not use art to vent but to create.

I need a break to do life differently.

So I start having whiskey at night again. Just a little bit in a 5 oz IKEA glass. I read Jonathan Franzen like all the characters are parts of me that I am avoiding to understand. Like a true communist's weapon is not just kapital but her power to create and to pleasure.

Yeah. Pleasure.

immobility

I rarely go to public actions anymore in nyc. It just seems pointless and makes me depressed even more afterwards. the rally against the execution of Troy Davis at Union Square yesterday was a bore. The same crews of Trotskyists with a mix of hipster anarchists, maybe students from NYU. I thought i would reenergized after the 2 month work in taiwan but it's been the total opposite. Things hardly interested me. I'm sick of the research project i'm writing on for ages. The debates in my globalization class are totally frustrating. The battle between anarchist primitivist and conspiracy theory.

I've been thinking seriously about the option of medication. However, i really don't want to go through counseling anymore.

And winter is rapidly coming.

鬼打牆

非常倉促就又要過去的夏天。總算可以靜下來的時候卻又突然不知所措。非常突然的情人節和非常突然的人群組合在bloody情緒錯綜複雜的熟悉感中，喝著一杯很甜的比利時啤酒度過了。我和性未解的關係。k說我是在完全享受自己身體和情感的愉快之前就已經擁有太多理論的包袱了。於是腦子操控著身體。身體於是總是那麼彆扭地偷偷地為著自己的高潮而感到罪惡。坐著c的車，我也知道很多事不是回到過去就能解決的，但在徬徨的時候總仍是會偷偷地期許如此。

請在音樂中解放我吧。在這一種我從來不曾完全懂得的語言之中。才能得到放逐。

請好好地耐心地繼續愛我。在單方面的慾望之中我只能越來越感到孤寂迷惘

這個早晨在變換的城市區塊我想著《A Streetcar Named Desire》

情緒快要被內部的政治鬥爭消耗殆盡。其使我也會擔憂呀，離開了這個圈子以後，我還能在哪裡找到同志落足？妳們聽我說美國的運動史頭頭是道，但我自己的歸屬感又有幾分呢？

紐約什麼也沒有變。地下鐵的悶熱讓人煩躁。但我習慣了這個城市的匿名感。我可以是任合一種人，任何一種身分。即便是跨過了houston從壞情緒的當地人突然搖身變身成為消費觀觀客的樂趣。我們總是泡在傢具店內，熱衷討論著無法擁有的人生。

這次再飛回去，剩下三個禮拜在台灣，我能夠完成什麼呢？總是帶著這種被卡在時空中的情緒。有太多的歷史被翻攪卻不夠時間分析。太多的新關係來不及去好好解讀到貼心。我總是害怕失去了真誠了解的機會。你們會記得我嗎？我會記得妳們嗎？在忙碌之中，我很快地又會變成了我自己都不認識的陌生人，在城市中扮演著各個角色：助教、女朋友、好學生、大聲嚷嚷又愛抽煙的左翼青年、厭世的寫作者。我對生命的興趣被早晨的第一口咖啡的濃稠度給牽制著。

被自己的噪音包圍著

在腐蝕的意識下讓過高音量的音樂圍饒於我靈魂以不可觸及的疲憊部份。

我總算寫完了這兩年半遲緩難產而下的小說，然後呢？

可以再溫柔些嗎。

我們並肩隔距1.5公尺的走在深夜的大街。

我想著這一切的場景是如此熟悉又荒誕而陌生。

我對於故事結尾的偏執，

就和我對於故事開頭的強烈，

一般地固執。

is this how it's supposed to be?

it's been two weeks since i am working at the migrant group. i have to say that even though i thought i have some organizing experiences with me, i'm learning a lot. and i wonder why something that has been so hard to deal with back in the US, like privilege politics, racial/gendered relations, seem so easy here. and it's definitely not because this is a nationalist organization in anyway. i'm still figuring out what it is. they are productive, they rarely have conflicts, they are really good at what they do and they create all these fun projects with one another. they do music, theater, they protest, they deal with legal issues in the court. they write stories and then make documentaries. i almost wish i was growing up in the 80s in Taiwan, where things didn't seem as complicated and overwhelmed. there's not as much leftist baggage (except the chinese communist party), you just try different things and see if it works. you start to rally your classmates, and then your co-workers, and you walk to the capital, and you just decide to occupy it because the government officials weren't listening shit. you start to organize because your co-workers' arms are cut off but she only got $1000 from the government and then her whole life is pretty much ruined.

now i wonder if we can really create a tight revolutionary organization where people barely know one another and only know one another through politics. i believe it can happen for some people. but i wonder why there almost always seem to be more conflicts and self-doubts and backstabbing than friendship, care, or even just collective passion for an alternative way of life. if we have to feel policed by our comrades all the time, if our language is too reformist or too soft, then why the hell do this?

i'm really tired and never feel this alone. i feel more alone than the the time before i have my first queer community in the US. because i don't really know what community i belong anymore. i sensor myself everywhere. at home, at school, at work, over email. even in my novel, i cannot write the ending.

my uninvolvement in the city

i wake up around 5 every morning due to jet-lag. but i also like the morning in taipei because you can really feel like the city is about to rise to its full working potential while the subway is packed and people walking by you speedily. i feel instantly exhausted when i head out because of the heat. we took an one hour highway bus to Hsinchu, Ku and i discussed the sectarianism and the general uninvolvement in the Taiwanese left. 4 hour coalition meeting with concerned Catholic church Fathers and Sisters. Salvation Army-Taiwan wanted to join the coalition and "save" all the migrant sex workers. you can be saved as long as you are forever damaged. i ate instant ramen and kept sweating in this tiny forest of progressiveness and wondering if the Fathers wanted to save me big queer too. we took the train back to taipei and it was raining a little bit. i worry that another typhoon is coming soon. i passed out in bed by 9pm in a dream of sadness.

solidarity is a phantom concept.

i really appreciate these accidental friendships that seem to consolidate themselves into something larger with time.

you meet a lot of people in new york, millions of them everyday. in the anti-austerity rallies, union meetings, conferences, concerts, school bathrooms, parks, drag shows in brooklyn, subways...but rarely they stick around. they become something in the background of your reflection. and you forget their names the next time you seem them out of the original context.

yet perhaps its time. more and more of those people passing by start to stick around over late night politically-absurd low budget queer movies, over beers, conversations about the assimilationist neoliberal multiculturalism of the canadian state. they sort of stick on your mind for longer. and you think about them, you really appreciate having to know these people in your life, even in such brief moments.

i like to think that my consciousness is located in parts of these people. they make up the sense of my world. Vygotsky was right a long time ago, it's bullshift that there is any solitary individual existing in this world. we are all part of each other. it is that creepy.

rethink.

I've changed the layout for a new start. I buried my inner speech to deal with the stress for too long. I promise myself to write again this summer. No more anxiety about the definition of revolutionary. It's the vanguardist doctrine anyways. I need to read poetry and fiction. Life exists materially outside of the orthodox texts and confined ways of living.

I need to learn to how to be free in a nonfree world, from the left and the right.

雜音。

好累。累壞了。好像忘記怎麼休息，六點半總是被街上的公路維修吵醒。然後一天的開始，十二盎斯黑咖啡至少可以撐過兩個半小時的課。博士班充滿太多不必要的猜測。說太多或說太少都是錯誤的。我喝了一些紅酒，躲進禮拜五下午沒有人的研究室中，重讀Fanon，尋找社會心理詮釋“identity”抽象乾澀人性外的其他選擇。唯一一些還讓我保持著理智的東西，也許就是每個禮拜三小時的Marx三人讀書會，和e.e.cummings的詩。俄國vygotsky學術傳承的成長心理教授說，我們現在需要的正是一個人性的馬克斯心理！也許我的依靠會是擺脫列寧包袱的俄系人性思想？在走道上和c交談近來組織中的一切變化和父權，像是個他媽的煙魂不散的陰影。L說我總是逃避談論我爸。我想我已經非常有效地埋藏十九歲之前的一切一切。

傷痛和快樂都不再算數。每天我學會擺脫自己一些。

anxiety in the suburb of southern california. counting palm trees.

sitting in the hotel in riverside, california, wondering why i even came to this place in the first place. "critical ethnic studies: the future of genocide" is the title of the conference. it sounded like a pretty neat idea last year, but the whole field perpetuating with academic jargons totally drove me crazy. homocolonalism? this one is new. we are telling the young minds to follow the master's languages and keep reproducing differently decorated but inherently the same ideas. i like how at least at this conference people generally have a sense of discomfort of being in academia--but i wonder if this discomfort has transformed to a hipster logic that "it's cool to criticize it but not cool to admit you can't avoid being part of it, too." every panel has little deconstructionist aesthetics of ( ) and other weird symbols in it, such as (de)colonizing queer or (re)imaging, etc, etc. i don't get the significances of the symbols. so what can we really achieve after knowing the inherent anti-blackness in mainstream gay and lesbian movement, or the neoliberalism in queer category?! then what?! or what do we get from know that homonationalism is not a post-911 thing but occurred back in roosevelt's days? i'm looking for a methodology in not only thinking, but doing something about this. calling out for "alliances" is definitely not enough anymore. nor is (re)inventing flashy terminology, pardon me.

for the egyptian revolutionaries, and my lover:

somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond

by e.e.cummings

somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond 
any experience,your eyes have their silence: 
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me, 
or which i cannot touch because they are too near  

your slightest look easily will unclose me 
though i have closed myself as fingers, 
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens 
(touching skilfully,mysteriously)her first rose  

or if your wish be to close me, i and 
my life will shut very beautifully ,suddenly, 
as when the heart of this flower imagines 
the snow carefully everywhere descending;  

nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals 
the power of your intense fragility:whose texture 
compels me with the color of its countries, 
rendering death and forever with each breathing  

(i do not know what it is about you that closes 
and opens;only something in me understands 
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses) 
nobody,not even the rain,has such small hands

也許當妳無法擁有某個東西的時候，妳總是意外得到另外的。

睡不著好痛苦。回來紐約後連續吃了三天的抗焦慮劑才能睡著，原本想一切都調節好了，卻怎麼也無法入睡。夜晚外頭的積雪反著微微的光。畢竟是凌晨四點多都還有人車在街上咆哮的城市啊。讓我的失眠感覺沒有那麼地異常。

渡了個看著電視小說美食珍珠奶茶的假日，該是回崗工作的時候了。和組織見面一切順利。六月回去一塊打戰吧。寫了快兩年的小說就要步入將近十萬字的怪獸。如果真的是關係這個世代的末日，那麼2012年也許真的是適合完成並推出去的日子。反正這種女同志的政治立場一定是賺不了錢的，還不如自己照自己想做的方式幹吧。

校訂、寫作、失眠、煮咖啡、被融雪浸溼的鞋、HBO影集、失眠、寫作。

為什麼見面時的我們總是那麼地禮貌呢？。

都過了這麼久了。想念的長度仍是遠遠大過於我們被允許擁有的時間。