又回到了這個時刻必須緊緊相擁。

我們總是得被它擊垮一次——那戀人感覺自己將重蹈覆轍，任憑感情如同從前一樣壞死的焦慮，被精神折磨帶來的失眠和距離導致的殘缺語言給放大、變形，凝結為失去邏輯的噩夢。我們各自是無法被穿透的水泥，灰白而醜陋，暴露著自己的雜質。想要被寵愛卻無法低下身段，因為害怕自己已經揭露太多，於是將挫敗和自尊包裝成悲觀的炸藥，似乎只要再靠近一些就可以自體引爆不了了之。「我終於記起她為什麼要離開我了」妳說，像是在預言著我們的結局。在那一刻，我多想，回到冬末初春那相依為命的旅程，無論多麼激烈或難受的爭吵都必須有盡頭，因為整個國度只有妳懂我，並且盡其所能地要我們快樂。就如同現在一樣。

妳是我唯一所要的人。從來沒有改變過。

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.

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。

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。

might as well enjoy the chaos.

Dr.E有張非常親切鄰家的臉，總是穿著剪裁良好的腰身西裝外套和配套的西裝褲，眨著眼在接待室帶我走過長廊到她暗橘色燈的諮商室。她將椅子拉向我非常非常地近：「這個禮拜一切都好嗎？」充滿母愛並具有專業性的關懷眼神。我開始懷疑我看心理師和上心理博士班的底層動機是不是都是為了同一個原因--尋找具有權威性的母愛關懷？其實也沒有甚麼好說的。意外多出來的五天假期讓我覺得生命並沒有那麼糟糕。至少我還可以享受一些最基本的娛樂，比如美食、比如浪漫喜劇片、比如公園和陽光、比如一些關於感情最最基本幾乎客套的對話。Dr.E迫切地說：「但是，那麼妳呢？妳需要的是甚麼？」我可以明確回答關於Kurt Lewin's Field Theory和W.E.B DuBouis社會心理理論跟馬克斯和法農的關連，或者例舉十個以上可以值得我留在紐約這個城市的理由和十個我為什麼想離開的原因，卻在當下完全無法回答Dr.E這個看似會在lifetime電影連續出現的second wave女性主義問題。

我到底需要的是什麼？。

我們跳到關於我和我父親的關係。Dr.E對於我和我父親沈默並抽離的關係非常的有興趣。我已經可以想像到分析的結論是，我在感情中不斷尋找對我冷淡的對象，是為了試圖彌補我父親從小到大無法預測的暴怒以導致的距離感。我想到關於我為何不、斷、地、在為了離開我或從我生命終消失的人負責。這些罪惡感和焦慮是可以擺脫的嗎。這樣的重複著的感情模式。

我想念西雅圖的朋友。想念我們就這麼聚在solstice後院抽著煙死不買咖啡的談著天下所有的事。取代那個自然的療癒環境的是研究方法課後在八樓學校餐廳的小聚會。N會告訴我她在她的樂團表演完後和22歲的女生在大排長龍的女廁裡醉得要命的makeout的糗事，然後以替我分析brooklyn女同志圈的市場，偶爾上去okcupid女同志交友網站寄給沒有機會約會的對象莫名其妙的訊息，然後我會鼓勵她和五年級的學姊上床。她取笑我說：才三個月紐約就讓妳有了第一個危機。妳可以想像未來的五年會有多荒唐嗎？

噢我可不想想像。

is it guilt or is it really homophobia?

I feel the urge to write because I'm gonna lose it if I don't.

Sometimes I really feel like I have nothing to say to my family. Because everything I say would just be attacked, rejected, or I would reveal too much about myself. And the thought of it is really, really frightening. "What have I done wrong? I never beat you or punish you," my mom says, "you never wanted to tell us about it since you were 13." I didn't say anything back. I don't know why I have always scared of my parents. They are always so serious. I don't remember ever having fun with them. The society's homophobia, of course, also made me feel like I'd be the worst daughter if I told them I was gay, especially when I was that young. "You never gave us chance. We always found out when bad things happened," she says. It is true. They have known about it for a long time. But there was no acceptance. There were doubts, verbal attacks, and financial control. But I don't want to talk to my mom about this again. It's simply too fucking hurtful. I can't believe that she doesn't remember it anymore, her and dad, asking me to choose whether if I want to be their daughter and be supported throughout college or I keep being homosexual and be disowned. Maybe I never forgive them about what they said then. Maybe they wouldn't even acknowledge that they threatened me that way, or they forced me to break up with my girlfriend, one after another.

And now, she's pushing me to open up again. But I feel so uncertain if I should tell her anything anymore. Maybe she's trying to save our relationship because she knows that I can and will be very, very far away. When I look at her serious face, I only have an unquantifiable amount of fear, and guilt.

二手菸。惡夢。心理治療

其實我幾乎都不抽煙了，每天還是在solstice後面陽台的座位喝咖啡唸書，吸著別人的二手煙。

惡夢。我發覺我惡夢的促使者是咖啡因沒錯。一晚醒來兩次，出軌的鏡頭，分不清夢裡頭的女人究竟是誰。或許是誰也都無所謂，壓抑的慾望和恐懼慣於巧妝表面的模樣。張開眼睛看著女朋友在旁邊睡得安穩，於是安心。若是我能夠發明專屬的安眠藥或肌肉鬆弛劑，我要一種藥可以一吞下去就聽見她睡前用吉他彈著bizzare love triangle這首歌的聲音。

我終於約了第一次的心理治療約談。不曉得為什麼緊張的要命。

rice cooker crisis

I almost had a panic attack when i found my rice cooker half dead this morning. I don't know why a piece of 10+ years old, dirty green rice cooker could make me so paranoid. I really didn't care that much about eating my taro buns (...well maybe i did). But it was almost as if it broke then, my last Taiwanese identity would be taken away by the inevitable dominant American culture in the air. Honestly, I never felt so Asian American my whole life.

Booked the tickets for Taiwan and Singapore with April yesterday. Part of me is happy about going home and spending perhaps the last stress-less winter break with my family. Part of me is wondering if this WILL be the last stress-less break between me and my family. I'm excited though, to be in Taiwan and Singapore with friends i met here. I have a feeling that it could change my outlook of what this gigantic geographical location means to me. It'd be great to see this part of Asia not just with nostalgia and huge appetite, but also with a new political understanding of our identities in the US that have been heavily shaped by what's happening at home.

10 days away from the GRE test. 10 days away from fall. 3 months away from deadlines. 3 months away from home. My stress hormones rise and fall with my google calendar. I kept talking about wanting to change this condition but haven't put too much effort into action. Lindsay said i might be in denial, telling myself that this is not urgent enough to do anything about it. And i found it very convincing. I really should set my sanity as one of my priorities. We start going to yoga classes together though. My muscles were so relaxed last night that i did not have any nightmare about mom or dad. I can tell how deep i slept by how messy my hair is in the morning.