Freewrite Sep 15 2024

莫來石
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(修改过)
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IPFS
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With them I'm free, with them I'm fearless, I'm sharp, burning, a tyrant of this life of mine, but also freezing, flowing, and incredibly soft and crispy.

Feeling very down, and alone.

I tried to write but could not really motivate myself. I guess I have a sense of perfection towards writing. I need to feel the whole article in my head before I lay everything down. So I try to write in another language. I don't identify as someone with very good English writing skills, so, easier this way.

This date format in title is American if I remembered correctly. I have a love and hate relationship with American culture I would say. I was growing up watching Shameless, has been taking great inspirations ever since, and all other shows and movies, Shawshank, Forest Gump, The Pursuit of Happiness. Later on I got addictive to comedy, Louis C.K.(turned out to be a pervert), The Conan Show, now I'm obsessed with Taylor Tomlinson. To be very honest I'm half American if I zoom in on my cultural genetic spectrum. But I also hate it, I hate the arrogance of it, the sense of that what happens in America is the most important thing on planet earth and everyone is looking at us (true though, but still), also because too many Chinese people have taken their sides about America, they either love it or hate it, like what they do to all other things. I guess there is still a part of me living at the moment when I was wearing a pair of cheap fake shoe in dorm and one of my classmates pointed out that my shoes could be fake in front others. There is still shame in me. The shame of being out fashioned, out dated, being underdog. So I don't wanna admit that I have any feelings for America, or any other countries in the world, I think.

I am taking a Trip south from Beijing recently. The plan is to gradually move South, city by city, get my visa for Germany in Shanghai, go for a little family reunion (whatever that supposed to fucking mean) in Hangzhou, then fly to Berlin. There are so many thoughts and feelings waiting for me to unpack and organize and put into intriguing narratives, which I believe you, the readers chosen to follow my account would definitely like, but I genially don't have the capacity to do it currently.

I suspect my dear old friend depression is haunting me again. People say it's like a big black dog, which I find it hard to relate. I always describe it as a pit where is without gravity and all kinds of matters, so you won't even know you got there, because you touch nothing, you feel nothing, you hear nothing, sniff nothing, see nothing, no light can travel in this vacuum, only you and yourself, generating endless thoughts, but trapped within your skull, and the time, relentlessly, precisely passing by.

I feel I'm so much. Any aspect of my life, or, we could put it this way, any traumas that I had, there is a non-fictional writer wrote a whole god damn book about it. Poverty, Immigration, Transgender, Sexual Assault, Homosexuality, Domestic Violence, Women in workplace, Queer Women. Yet here I am, all those tags sticking onto me, or growing out from me, an individual, who was born in the village in the mountains of China, went to a big city with immigrant workers parents, turned out to be trans, raped by my best friend, turned out to be lesbian, raped by a woman, abused by another woman, fought my bloody way out in the workplace, but getting side eyes and was harassed by my old white man leader.

Sometimes I do wish for an easier life. There was one time, my mom told me the story, or my dad, I forgot, our landlord thought I was a pretty baby, offered 200k to my parents to adopt me, at the time it was not a small figure. My parents rejected, I try to believe they love me more than 200k RMB. I always joke about I was just one "Yes I do" from my parents away from an easy life. But the thing is my life is way too complicated than that. What if that man want a refund when I tuned out to be a girl? Would he say something like "I bought a baby with a dick, you are not taking off the dick that I bought." I would probably slam his face with it and then kill myself if that's the case. But think positively, my coming out experience to my actual parents now was far from smooth and easy either, so maybe it would be better if I had at least more money on my hands so I don't need to be a prostitute.

I was almost a prostitute. At the time I was broke as fuck, and simply desperate. I posted photos, along with tags, added a man. He wanted a date, we negotiated a price. After that he said he wanted to take photos while dating and having sex. I said yes. At least he asked, I was thinking to myself, and I really could use the money. Then I texted I need to go to shower then go to sleep. He texted so early? I said I have work to do tomorrow. Also to, please my customer with good service, I sent him a photo of my legs after shower. He messaged, looks so smooth, I want to touch them so badly. I felt repulsive, very, I don't know it was towards him or myself. But just before the day we agreed to meet up, my company I was doing internship told me we have to OT for a project on that day, and I felt so fucking relived. I blew him up with no heads up nor explanation. So I didn't become a prostitute.

Look at me now, laying on the bed of a nice hotel room, typing in second language, telling stories of traumas, who would have knew all those years of the accumulation of life experiences led to this point. And what a drama queen. But this is me, yes, a drama queen with multiple languages. I love languages, they are my swords and knifes, the weapon that I forged for myself to cut through the complex of multiple gigantic predicaments and to beat all the people who are born up there above my head. With them I'm free, with them I'm fearless, I'm sharp, burning, a tyrant of this life of mine, but also freezing, flowing, and incredibly soft and crispy.


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