The Dangerous Twist

hmmmm Quoi de neuf?

Sunday was shotgun wedding. I will be forever amused by Chinese/Vietnamese wedding traditions, but this weekend's particular rendition was equal parts heartbreaking and dead boring.

Bad enough my cousin had her baby before the wedding, but the look on her poor father's face during the reception as he had to watch his baby girl get tongued by the evil wretch what planted one in her was just hard to bear. When he came over from Vietnam four years ago or so he looked 40. Today he looks 60.

I'm not gonna go into judgements or whatever. Shit happens, and you gotta make the best of it, you know? But um. I guess I was raised the way I was raised. I couldn't do that to my parents.

Observation: Vietnamese people have this fascination with Latin music. They're always playing the cha cha or some samba or flamenco or something Ricky Martin at their weddings. They just love it. It's like no matter how many synthesized wonders you could come up with on the keyboards, the maracas keep comin' up.

Which I don't get because why, why oh why then do you guys hate Hispanics so damn much? Fuck.

To that end, there are still people who think that Spain is not a part of Europe, but located somewhere near Puerto Rico. I kid you not.

I mean, you learn that stuff in second grade. Christopher Columbus sailed the ocean blue, found the West Indies in the Americas and then enslaved the indigenous peoples. Kk, he was Portugese, but Portugal's next to Spain and he received his commission in Espagne, and I mean fuck people should just know this shit.

Fuck.

Met up with Catherine for the first time in months. Had dandy old time, talked nonstop about everythings. Went to the Lab, then to H&M, and then to the pier, where we had ice cream (yeah it was freezing but it's the principle) and then went to Target. It was really nice. I haven't felt so delighted in a long time, and I've exhausted myself talking. But it's good. I'm glad I can be there for her to be open and free to talk and stuff.

And I mean, at least she understands what it means to feel helpless and apathetic, to feel like I've lost some inspiration, you know? Emmanuel just.. I dunno. He doesn't understand or want to understand. He wants me to get up and snap out of it.

And fuck knows so do I. But I just can't feel it anymore. I used to be so moved by the world, so pissed off, so incensed by others that I had to shout and breathe words in strings of glimmering poetry and nonsense and song and dialogue, you know? I just had to.

And now even creation has become fabrication, and nothing i do seems to hold merit. instead of shields i forge sieves, instead of swords i make believe.

But lately I have started to get pissed again, started to care again. It's slow, but I'm getting there, I think.

but sometimes, i'm scared that emmanuel doesn't see this, doesn't want to hear this. that i am getting better again. i'm scared that by the time i get it to him he'll be gone. i don't know.

sometimes i get too tired to cry, and when it comes to emmanuel either i'm tired or i'm crying. fuck we used to be so happy. how come when i look at him i feel so glad inside but there's always something we have to fight about, something he says that gets me quiet and sad and so perturbed i just have to start crying and making everything bad again?

either i'm tired or i'm crying. honestly.