stop

Bromance seems stitched into American culture- men are good friends and in a society where men should not express emotion, there is compassion and good friendship qualities. Even beyond that, men who are acquaintances with others can also be labelled as having a bromance. 

i have said it a million times- that I love love. I feel it very often. At the very least, infatuation.

I love the randomness, the spontaneity, the mystery, the chase, the heartbreak, everything. 

Randomness is when you have a friend and you don’t know what to think and naturally you hang out more and more until you like them. It’s by chance, but is it?

Spontaneity is going to pizza or chinese food on a whim and not realizing that this is what life is made of, rash decisions with no risk and no reward but feeling high and feeling the company of someone else, or lots of people. Spontaneity is being loud and quiet and meeting up with people you never thought you would ever know.

Mystery is the fear and excitement of not knowing. Somehow, simultaneously, the body feels fear that love will not be returned- that all of the interactions large and small, all of the whims and spontaneity and randomness was all fake, or by chance, or a reflex. But isn’t love a reflex? But even with this fear, excitement is always a part of the equation. You are excited daily, waking up, knowing that there is only a possibility that someone is infatuated with you, and furthermore that they are willing to share those feelings. The possibility is key. There is too much comfort in knowledge, and living in mystery is more fun, right?

The chase is interlaced with mystery. The chase is a game, not a race. the chase is not tirelessly pursuing something that will be yours if you put enough effort in. The chase is like standing on the edge of water. The wave comes and pushes you backwards, and of course you must lean forward. The wave returns and you must lean back. There is so much tact and fun in this chase, but the further you are in the chase, the less mystery you have. Or is it more? You only conclude the chase and mystery with one question: how important am I to you? concealed in a relationship question.

It’s me, the guy in the black hooded jacket with the red bike. This probably won’t find you, the girl on the Fremont Bart with white converse and books in her hand, but here goes nothing?

https://youtu.be/P-fTHv7qV5Q

Maybe he was right. Maybe if he could convince me that I wasn’t doing anything, then I really wasn’t doing enough in the first place. I don’t believe that. 

But I still find connections to my supposed “homeland”, the land whose languages I do not speak, whose languages my grandparents don’t really speak often, to my displaced love for home that I have invested in Hong Kong instead, not my family’s true native Toisan. I find connections through personal interactions- through love and friendship and investment. 

Identity is more than a language, where your parents were born, or grandparents, where your grandparents went, and what customs you have. Identity is personal security. I will never discover my true identity, only get closer and closer to the real thing. 

https://youtu.be/MyYN8x9-Wdg

https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCMi5I6w2NGV_1csU5iUdLcg