It’s not what we do but how much love we put into our actions. Love is not found it’s created. You have to work hard to gain it and you have to work harder to maintain it. Once you stop trying loves starts dying. Remember that love is both a noun and a verb. Without action love is only a word.
We watched a film based on a true story about some people that survived a plane crash in the middle of winter up high on some mountains and they were stranded with no food and water so they had to resort to cannibalism and eat whoever was the first to die. My sister was indignant about the whole affair. “I would never do that,” she self-righteously sniffed. Her poetic sensibilities were ruffled. Cannibalism didn’t fit into her romantic view of the world. “I wouldn’t,” my sister said again, as though repeating the claim made it truer. “I’d just lie down quietly in the snow, fold my arms across my heart and close my eyes for good.” “Oh please, no you wouldn’t!” I exploded. “You’d be the first to eat us all. In fact I’m surprised you’re not gnawing on my arm right now.”
Sometimes it’s hard to know what to think, what to say and what to do. Life is filled with ambivalent moments. If you’re ever uncertain whether what you want to say or do is right, think what you’d say or do if the person you love was with you. If you always imagine yourself in the company of those you care about, you’ll always be your best self.
It was so great when we heard a Bassnectar song on Breaking Bad, I’d love if on The Expanse an ill.Gates track was featured. It’s fantastic going through the whole show again in preparation for the next season. The protomolecule is so badass. While I have slight allegiances to Earth, Mars and the Belt, I’m kind of Team Protomolecule. “Is that so,” said Dylan, though I think he’s probably Team Protomolecule too. One of my tricks is to keep a whole stable of secret girlfriends, but I always vet the girls with Dylan. Like whenever I encounter a woman that’s perfect for me I say, “How about that one,” or “I think she’d look great on my arm, don’t you,“ or “She should be my girlfriend,” or “If I had a girlfriend, it would be her.” Recent examples include Naomi Nagata, Julie Mao and Drummer, all of whom are characters on The Expanse. Dylan approves. We seem to have the same taste in women.
I’m always dismayed when people complain about someone using big words or “showing off how smart they are.” As if there’s something wrong with learning to express yourself eloquently, as if it’s better to be stupid for the rest of our lives, and forever talk like children. Christ, people, level up. Language is powerful and beautiful. It is our privilege to have it, and it is our duty to learn how to use it, to express ourselves clearly, honestly, memorably, genuinely and well. Language makes us who we are, and there are times when words are all we are. We must recognize this, respect it, and enjoy it, in order to recognize, respect and enjoy ourselves in our attempts to use words to creatively, effectively and meaningfully connect with each other.
I’m always running into a room with the announcement, “I BOW TO THE BAO” and Dylan always ignores me. So I say it again, sometimes thrice even. Finally Dylan says, “You notice how I never laughed the first 45 times you tried that joke?” And then I just bow deeply, to the bao, and I giggle. This ongoing gag is endless, and only one of us is laughing.
The best leg up in this world is love and encouragement, with a parent’s love you can go far. If you have good parents, be thankful, don’t take that shit for granted. If you are a parent, be the best parent possible to your child, especially if your own parents sucked. Because the only way this world can ever be saved, and the only way this world can ever be worth saving, is if we all do better. Stop complaining about whatever nonsense and bullshit. Stop complaining, stop shifting responsibility to others, stop making excuses. Be better by doing better.
Ever since I became a lazy motherfucker (aka married) I no longer prance around in 6″ stilettos and do death drops on a pile of speakers. Instead I wear running shoes and dirty sweatpants for like five days straight. Dylan’s gone from irrelevantly reassuring me that I don’t need to spend three hours getting all dolled up or wriggle myself into insane outfits since I’m naturally already beautiful to sadly asking me to take a shower at least once across a calendar year. But cake can’t be both had and eaten. Bed made, now lie!
There will be people in your life who will try their hardest to make you as ugly as they are and you must never let them. Sometimes these people might actually be your friends and family, but just because they are friends and family does not always automatically make them right. There will come a time when you must decide both who and what is right for yourself. Sometimes your best self and your best life can’t actually begin until after you’ve made that decision.
If you want to accomplish something special, original and truly new, you have to be relentlessly unapologetically determined. Be true to yourself, be true to your art, never take it for granted. You don’t have to conform, you can be as raw as you need to be and as raw as you want, but never change who you are. Remember that you can’t please everybody and you shouldn’t even want to. Treat everything like it’s your greatest opportunity. Stay focused. Keep going. Do your best and then do more. Quit fucking around.
I like it when Dylan smokes weed because it makes him all sweet and shy. He ducks his head like a dog, acts a little bit guilty and tries to make himself smaller. He’s like a 10 year old boy who hasn’t misbehaved but is still worried to be accused of having done something wrong. Sometimes I act all stern just to fuck with him.
I remember the first time Bassnectar called Dylan back when we still lived in Toronto and I descended into a loud fit of sneezing. I sneezed like seven times. The entire house shook and the bones in my chest reset. Afterward there was a pause. “What was that?” asked Lorin, afraid. “The thing about Nunich,” said Dylan, “is that she has very intense sneezes.” Many years later, Dylan took me to Laos for my birthday. Laos is my motherland, and it’s unknown if I had ever even been there, since I don’t know exactly where I was born, whether in Laos, Vietnam or Thailand. Anyway, on the first tranquil morning bright with sunshine when we landed in Vientiane, I looked around and breathed the air in. Laos is a very poor and undeveloped country with dirt lanes and dry river beds, skinny barefoot children selling trinkets, dulcet women in traditional garments gazing silently, old men smoking and looking on. Laotians are famous for being beautiful, friendly, polite and quiet. I spent my whole life somewhere else so I didn’t feel any immediate connection. I just looked around and was lost in thought. The day was bright and hot, the sun shone inscrutably down upon all. We saw a thin frail old woman making her ancient way slowly toward us. Suddenly she sneezed so deafeningly as to convulse the town. The noise was loud as thunder, a high magnitude earthquake couldn’t have been more disruptive. But no one batted an eye. Just another hot humid day in Laos. Dylan and I looked at each other. “It’s the sneeze!” I said. “The sneeze of my people!”
I’m 42 years old and that’s okay, you don’t need to tell me how young I look or that I look good for my age. I am strong and fantastic and beautiful regardless of how old I am and regardless of what anyone has to say. It’s ridiculous that society makes older women feel they should be ashamed of their age. Fuck society and its stupid rules. If you’re one of those people that think older women are undesirable and that only young women matter then you’re part of the problem so fuck you too.
I told Dylan that overnight my arm got all crooked rammed beneath my head and pillow, lost proper blood circulation, and went horribly to sleep. “Yuck,” I said, “I hate that. It feels really awful, like when I bonk my funny bone. I flung my arm away like it belonged to someone else but the arm could just be flung only so far. It felt really fucking weird.” “You know what I do when that happens,” said Dylan, and he made a loose encircling gesture with his hand that I was soon to learn was fairly masturbatory. “It’s called ‘The Friendly Stranger,’” said Dylan defensively when he caught my expression. “I’m surprised you didn’t know that,” he added. I gazed silently at Dylan and only God can know all the resignation that my silent gaze contained. The friendly stranger. Shit. What planet is this.
letgo and Facebook Marketplace are the fucking business. It’s such a rush finding incredible items for an incredible price. I’m basically high from today’s successes. It’s only been a day but I’m already in love with LA. I don’t know why but getting good deals make me delirious. Dylan says it’s because I’m Asian.