everything is redeemable and no one will ever die


Things practiced: writing, being fallible and weak and vulnerable and embarrassing, trusting anything at all

Sometimes you get a run of days or even of weeks or months in which what you anticipate and what comes true live up to one another, delicious and impossibly expansive and taken for granted. I say often that I’m lucky and what I mean is that it’s terrifying.

Life is always despair juxtaposed with the purest possible light. All we have is what we will inevitably lose, and all we can do is refuse the dark outside together, for a while. No more dying okay let’s just agree.

Anyway wrote some things here:

  • Set us free: why Iā€™m an abolitionist rape survivor (ā†’)
  • Silence will not redeem us: East Asian art, being, and betrayal (ā†’)