05/31/18, 12:19pm

when I am happy I stop looking at myself from a distance

02/12/18, 12:21am

I have asked for three days of space, and in the aftermath of the request — an unfussy affair, a quick text and only a few minutes of heart pounding, conceived of and solidified during my evening shower, Nujabes echoing on the tile — a strange combination of blithe, anxious, dreading, and then nothing at

02/24/17, 4:17pm

13 reasons why: the author said that he left out modern technology, and had the characters acknowledge the outdatedness of old technology present. I think this instilled in me a need to be timeless; I never wanted to regret something I did. At the same time, a part of me felt the need to be

06/23/17, 1:10pm

Miley Cyrus, Lady Gaga — these women have *won*. They are so crazy, so odd, that no one can sexualize them but themselves. “What are you wearing?” is always the female celebrity trap, and so Lady Gaga wears meat dresses and bubble dresses and makes the whole thing so insanely performative that there is no

06/23/17, 12:30pm

Has anyone attempted to recreate a complex person in their entirety via media?

06/23/17, 11:41am

What would we discover if we automatically took pop music seriously? If we didn’t need disclaimers? I an reactionary; I know what is wrong. But I am not strong enough or secure enough to then defend what I think is right. Is that cowardice?

06/22/17, 10:47pm

And suddenly I feel that art is no longer mine to appreciate, to love, and it frustrates me that art has betrayed me in this way, and yet it is still beautiful and meaningful to me; I pass statue after statue and it pains me that they are still meaningful to me, that they may

06/22/17, 9:36pm

A podcast I listened to earlier today made the hypothesis that pop music is inextricably linked to youth, and particarly the teenage youth: the definitions arose at the same time; perhaps they in fact defined each other, whittling the two into a homogeny of whirling concept to be ridiculed, looked at wistfully, pandered after and

being alone in ny

I almost started this journal off with the phrase, “for the first time in a long time…” — but I realize that’s not quite right. This has been a somewhat gradual process, an accumulation of being with HJ and living in China with not much to do and now being in New York, the city

05/30/17, 10:37am, sitting on my bed in Beijing, in the middle of reading Calvino’s Invisible Cities

It has come to my attention that I have in the past devoted significant amounts of time towards gaining a single adjective attached to my being, like being well-read, or being carefree, or being obliviously attractive. I’m not proud of it, but I’m also not yet sure whether I should be ashamed of it.