Here
Dec 16 2020

Yesterday when I laid down I felt the pulses underneath my eyelids.

They had a rough texture, the texture of unrest.


Today I called a government staff about my health insurance.

He said, “my colleague said that you are not considered a resident.”

I closed my eyes after the phone call.

My problem was sorted.

And I felt very, very tired.

I have heard it too many times: you do not have this document; therefore, you do not have rights and you do not belong.


It is not uncommon that I cry.

At least I can cry these days and I do not feel I need to apologize.

I listened to a podcast in which the author once wrote, my body is not an apology, which became her book titled The Body Is Not An Apology.

She talks about how acceptance is passive and not enough for radical self-love. Radical self-love is a form of resistance against the system built upon patriarchy, white supremacy and ableism.

I agree.

But again, we forget about the practice of radical self-love when we have to fret about health insurance.

*

Example of “meditate,” from the Merriam-Webster Dictionary website:

Some people meditate, read a book, slowly jump on a trampoline—or have no plan at all.

(Wsj Staff, WSJ, “8 Tips for Stress Relief and Anxiety Management,” 23 Oct. 2020)

In certain contexts, to meditate is to contemplate, to think through.

In others, to meditate is to recognize thoughts and emotions and choose to disengage.


I have been thinking about comparative suffering and comparative privilege. Not to compare, but to understand — as one does in comparative literature.

I think about them and I do not think about them for some time.

I meditate.

I write in front of the screen for hours.

I go for a swim.

I explain my intentions as concisely as possible in an email.

I wait for an reply.

There is no reply.

I feel trapped by the silence.

I write in front of the screen for hours.

I call my boyfriend.

I feel lots of love.

I meditate.

There is no reply.

I read information from the internet.

I feel trapped by the noise.

I sew.

I stop myself from writing emails.

I call my dad.

I say, “I’d rather have a thorough conversation.”

I wake up too early.

I write in front of the screen for hours.

I make coffee.

I meditate.

lemony.space

lemony.space@gmail.com