I’m currently sitting on the floor, next to the restroom entrance just so I can use the outlet for my electronics. Three hours to go. I’m so bored and I can’t use Facebook. So I go on Jack’d to see if anyone wanted to chat. But everyone’s profiles are in Chinese and I didn’t want to make a fool of myself just approaching strangers. But then again, isn’t that what this app is for? Am I experiencing some sort of aversion to foreigners?
It brings to mind the moment people chat with me on the app only until the point when I disclose that I’ve only been in the US for 5 years. Then, they stop. Probably because they assume I’m some fresh off the boat immigrant. Immediately, I feel the urge to insist that I speak perfect English with barely an accent. But I stop myself. Because the mere thought of using that as a bargaining tool disgusts me. But the thought is there.
To be wanted for my Asian body but not for my Asian thoughts and words. Well, maybe if I say kimchi or sashimi or Hello Kitty
Sorry, bud. Not that kind of Asian.
But it’s strange. It happens usually with other Asian Americans. …Then again, maybe not so strange.
I probably hate Zooey Deschanel because she tries so hard to be quirky and it feels so forced and I somewhat identify with that because I think my quirkiness is what I have going for me and sometimes I play it up and I hate Zooey Deschanel because she’s having way more success with it than I am
I sat across this girl in a little coffeeshop in an airport in Shanghai and decided to strike up a chat. Not too long after, she casually mentions that she’s traveling to Australia to see a girl she’s been dating. And I told her that I hope to meet an interesting boy while I’m in the Philippines.
I was taken aback by how casually we disclosed our queerness to one another. Like it was nothing. Just over coffee. In Shanghai.
This is how it should be. This is how I wish it could be.