Unmasking the Fashion of Masks | Covid-19

It has been over a month of lockdown in Thailand, and yesterday marked the cautious resumption of some businesses and re-opening of local parks. Though the number of new Covid-19 cases each day have dwindled down to single digits, looking towards a post-pandemic society still feels wearily distant, and the uncertainty will most certainly pollute our minds for much longer after that. I somehow fantastically managed to acquire runner’s knee during my 14-day quarantine (in my room, may I add), but it meant a rare opportunity to leave the house and explore Bangkok’s streets from the car window. Indeed, there is no doubt Covid-19 has transformed the way the world looks, and yet, much has remained the same. The local coconut shop has stayed open, supermarket queues trail all the way to the frozen section, Bangkok road rage is still a thing, and the nation’s addictive usage of Line has only increasingly stoked Thai people’s notorious social insecurities the more isolated we have to be (more from where that came from). Yes, the tourist traps are eerily empty and you’ll see the oddly heartwarming sight of Grab delivery motorcyclists making smalltalk in-store, but the biggest visual change? That would have to be the masks.

…a common site in many gardens here…

Masks everywhere, on everyone. Devoid of smiles, an abundance of expression. And as with any wearable item humans deem fit or have to tolerate, I’ve watched the inevitable emergence of something from the humble breath-catcher: fashion.

Masks now boast extensive diversity — from rugged motorcyclists adorning cartoon animal masks, to AirPod-wearing users boasting sophisticated minimalist designs that flatteringly pronounce their jawline, to young girls prancing around in pastel-coloured flower masks. (Also, what is it with so many people still not wearing a mask properly? I swear if you cross paths with me and I can see your nose I will not hesitate to SPRAY BOTH YOUR EYES WITH ISOPROPYL ALCOHOL, VERY LIBERALLY)

Mask-wearing isn’t a new practice in Asia, and since masks do claim dibs on a fair share of our face, the demand for more aesthetically appealing designs is pretty reasonable. However, I can imagine that masks becoming a mainstay item in the foreseeable future in Western cultures is an unfamiliar and radically different practice. It’ll become a “popular accessory” — and though I feel a bit uncomfortable about using that phrase in the wake of Covid-19’s devastating destruction, there is no dying that the demand for masks is more than just its efficacy.

Here’s a quick story. One time during residential back in Year 6, a classmate gasped when she saw me, and proceeded to exclaim in front of the entire year: “Oh my gosh I can’t believe you’re wearing patterned shorts with a patterned shirt! Everybody knows that’s wrong!”

People sniggered at me. I guess I was meant to be embarrassed, but alas, you can’t really care about something you put zero thought into. Plus, looking back, that statement definitely does not seem like something your average 11-year-old would say, but hey-ho. Not to brag but present-day me now harbours some fashion sense — you know, the fantastic clothes that’ll make you win “Best Dressed Delegate” at yet another overseas MUN conference (I’ve never won), all-black attire for concerts and performances that specifically have no shoulder restrictions (!!! very important !!!), and the increasingly popular all-in-one “Clerk @ 5, Club @ 11” outfit.

…sigh. Help me catch some of that pitiful despair, now would you?

Point being, despite my disturbingly limited sense of style, I do know that fashion is all about fitting in and standing out. It is an outlet of self-expression and personal value; a snapshot statement of individuality. Like wearing a poppy badge for Remembrance Day or adorning NHS rainbow badges on your lanyard, wearing a mask is not just about being the right thing to do but also being seen doing it. “Hello, it is I, pledging my allegiance to citizenship, and you should too.” The self-consciousness of mask-wearing has flipped its polarity from the embarrassment of wearing one to the embarrassment of an exposed chin.

At first I thought, great. Of course the characteristic nature of people is to extrapolate the phrase “high-in-demand” plastered all over the news as “a trendy opportunity”, a way to ride out this viral storm whilst desperately trying to stay relevant, stand out, look cool, versus the stark kind of desperate call from frontline workers for surgical masks and N-95s to simply feel a bit safer; aren’t fashionable masks a mockery, expressing sympathy for those at high-risk to our followers on Twitter from the comfort of our couch, basking in the affordable luxury to wring out the celebrity angle of this “popular” item?

But after much thought and mildly frustrated confusion, I’ve concluded this: 仕様がない. Just, 仕様がない*. Because yes, it is indeed the typical fashion of humans to take advantage of a situation, but lets at least put the “fun” in functional, because life goes on. There’s no denying the age of coronavirus is indeed dire, and the stats are more than horrendous; one can complain that ordinary people wearing fancy designer masks are not taking the situation seriously, but maybe those same people are simply getting on with life’s new normal. Don’t get me wrong, I find it digusting that some ‘social influencers’ and ‘celebrities’ purposefully exploit their audience with hiked prices for less-than-mediocire quality (that’s a whole other topic in itself) — all I ask is that if you’re going to make masks, you better do your homework, do it right, and if you will, sell it reasonably. And if we scoot past that, regardless of whatever intention you may have in mask-wearing, at least it still sends a very clear message of hygiene and safety to both yourself and everybody around you.

So if it is a coping mechanism for your feelings of helplessness to post numerous #maskies, so be it. If your post-pandemic routine before leaving the house becomes “Keys, wallet, phone, mask”, then you proudly whack on that (questionable) plague doctor bird mask, you do you. As long as they’re CDC-approved and not useless self-proclaimed “PPE” (looking at you, Boohoo), I think a little bit of colour is exactly what we need. Don’t you think?


Music: “Stand Out Fit In” by ONE OK ROCK

*A Japanese phrase that basically means “can’t be helped” with all sorts of nuances (at least, that’s how I’ve interpreted it from living in Japan for a while!).

Liebster Blog Award!

An award? Um, I did not expect this at all…I’m kind of flabbergasted.

So, I’ve been nominated for the Liebster Award; it was created to discover, recognise and welcome new bloggers to this incredibly supportive blogging community. Thank you so much to the lovely Kristie for nominating me – check out her blog for hilarious, straightforward Mum-talk: https://onmumdaysi.wordpress.com. It just goes to show what a great community blogging brings about, to be nominated by somebody with an entirely different niche from mine. Anyways, the official rules of the Liebster Award can be found here – and as part of accepting this award, I’ve received 8 questions by Kristie to be answered. Hence, 8 will be the number I use throughout.

The 8 Answers

  1. What is your goal?

    To do my duty, even if it means sacrifice.

  2. Did blogging come naturally for you?

    It has to, or I’d just be fooling myself.

  3. Where do you see yourself in 10 years time?

    Revising for an exam in a badly lit room, whilst yet another friend is getting married. Life.

  4. If you could have dinner with anyone – dead or alive – who would it be?

    Nikola Tesla. What a guy.

  5. Who is your inspiration?

    My extraordinary parents, for sure. I can only strive to be half as great as them.

  6. Would you ever step out of your comfort zone?

    100%. I believe it is essential to do so everyday.

  7. Would you collab with another blogger?

    Of course! But I think the real question here is if any blogger would like to collaborate with me…

  8. Do you VLOG on YouTube? If so how many followers do you have?

    I do have a YouTube channel where I post music covers for a proud 24 subscribers (huge, I know). But, vlogging? We’ll see.

The 8 Random Facts (Nothing Too Scandalous)

  1. I do not watch any TV shows. And no matter how many times people try to convince me to watch Game of Thrones, I just probably won’t ever get around to it.
  2. The last movie I watched was “What Happened To Monday”, and I’ve been falling asleep thinking about the conundrums of overpopulation ever since. Also, just the eerie parallels the movie drew with the day you were born on…
  3. Speaking of, I was born on a Friday.
  4. Cody Simpson follows me on Twitter (it has been many years since it has happened, and I still don’t know why).
  5. Tom Holland. Just, Tom Holland.
  6. I love running. It makes me less tired.
  7. ….but I sprained my ankle a few weeks ago training for the half-marathon in Bristol this coming weekend. Sigh.
  8. And lastly, I’m starting second year of med school next week.

Rules & Nominees

Alright, so that’s enough of me. To my fellow nominees, congratulations! And here is what you gotta do next:

  1. Answer the following 8 questions below, and write a blog post including the link to the blog that nominated you (i.e. me!).
  2. Write 8 random facts about you.
  3. Nominate 8-10 other blogs (see, I chose 8 because I was asked 8 questions, but it’s completely up to you).
  4. Ask 8-10 questions your nominees have to answer.

The 8 Questions

  1. Do you believe in ghosts?
  2. What is your least favourite colour?
  3. Describe where you’d be in 10 years.
  4. How important is exercise to you?
  5. What is your relationship with food?
  6. What is your preferred social media platform?
  7. Why do you blog?
  8. What motivates you to get up everyday?

Have a great week, everybody.


Microaggressions: You’ve Been Victimised

“Ni hao!” says the random white, middle-aged man, grinning profusely as he leans in much too closely for your liking whilst you’re walking down the street. Sigh.

Hands up if this has ever happened to you.

This scenario has happened to me multiple times whilst I was abroad – I can guarantee you, every Asian friend you have has probably experienced this if not once, but more than they can count. I mean, wow! What a great way to mark you as an ignorant, presumptuous jerk, right? Blurting out the first Asian-language phrase you think of just because we look vaguely East Asian; I honestly have always wanted to know, do you really think we’re going to be impressed by your poorly pronounced two syllables? Don’t get me wrong – I have nothing against Mandarin or the people who speak it, and I’d be totally cool with it if it happened to me somewhere where Mandarin is actually the official language. But every single time, it’s always been in a Western city. If you wanted to be friendly, a simple “hi” would’ve been more than enough. I’m always down for a conversation, but not when you’re randomly throwing around “ni hao” to every Asian you see – it’s quite extraordinary, and quite peculiar, to speculate what goes through their sad little minds.

It was only until I attended a Discrimination & Harassment Workshop on May 7th that I finally could put a word to what I had experienced: microaggression. The term was coined by psychiatrist Dr. Chester Pierce in the 1970s, and Columbia professor Dr. Derald Wing Sue1 borrowed the term, referring to it as “the everyday verbal, nonverbal, and environmental slights, snubs, or insults, whether intentional or unintentional, which communicate hostile, derogatory, or negative messages to target persons based solely upon their marginalized group membership. In many cases, these hidden messages may invalidate the group identity or experiential reality of target persons, demean them on a personal or group level, communicate they are lesser human beings, suggest they do not belong with the majority group, threaten and intimidate, or relegate them to inferior status and treatment”2.

Some examples3 of microaggression would be asking the Asian guy how to solve a difficult mathematical problem, asking a black person if you can touch their hair, or the “ni hao” situation above. I’ve had my fair share of microaggressions, being told “You act different from other Asians, y’know?”, friends being in disbelief I dislike playing classical music on the piano, or people bluntly assuming my parents forced me to study medicine. I’ve moved around my entire life from a very young age, so I’m used to these types of interactions – I don’t feel threated, I don’t feel intimidated, and I definitely don’t feel relegated to an inferior status. Instead of taking extreme offense from somebody remarking “Your English is so good for somebody from Thailand!”, I take it as a sort of educating moment, and I somewhat enjoy it, because chances are, most people don’t have malicious intentions behind their words. I don’t believe they’re trying to “aggress” me in any way, and it’s just a sincere comment from somebody who maybe doesn’t mingle much with Asians. It sprouts from their upbringing; perhaps they’ve lived in only one place their entire lives. I once asked a lecturer a question about their presentation, only for her to slowly repeat the exact same phrase she used in her lecture, when it was the specific meaning behind it I was interested in. The issue here was she spontaneously assumed this Asian student couldn’t understand her British accent during the lecture, rather than wanting to delve into the science – but this lady is not a racist at all, and I felt completely fine. I didn’t see that encounter as a microaggression until I discovered the concept itself. Plus, who’s to say it doesn’t go the other way around? I’ve definitely displayed my fair share of microaggressions (e.g. saying to my Asian friends “That’s such a White thing to do” or even asking “But where are your parents from? Where are you ethnically from?”). Leave a comment down below of what microaggressions you’ve ever faced or dished out yourself without knowing – this is a non-judgemental zone (I’ll make sure of it)!

So during the workshop I attended, when the presenter introduced this whole microaggression concept, I thought, Man! This is incredibly relatable, preach!” But the more I thought about it, the more I wondered, where does one draw the line? Am I supposed to be more offended? When does this sort of “oh, poor me” stuff stop? Because given the nature of microaggressions – subtle messages slipped into casual conversation – I don’t believe they will ever cease to exist completely. But there is definitely benefit to fostering this awareness surrounding microaggressions; the change is evident. In fact, during my first year of university, I spent more time correcting people saying I was actually from Thailand when they assumed I was from America or Canada. This evolution in assumption is a tell-tale sign we’re at least on our way to eradicating the binary name-calling and formal exclusion (i.e. Asian people are solely from Asia! White people cannot be from Asia!). And on the other end of the stick, I know people aren’t asking about my nationality in order to oppress me, but out of genuine curiosity – diversity is fascinating, and when something’s fascinating, we speak the unintentional dialect of awe.

This interested me. Because when I walk up the steps in the lecture theatre to find a seat, I definitely have this feeling I can’t quite put my finger on – a sort of quiet, “Hm, is she going to sit next to me? I don’t know what to say because she’s Asian” vibe. Like I’m a bit of an outsider, because that’s what we’re programmed to think in a country dominated by white people, whether we’re conscious about it or not. And now I know it’s called microaggression, but why has it only erupted in recent years, and should I even do anything about it except recognize when it happens? Jonathan Haidt4, social psychologist at New York University’s Stern School of Business, signposted a fascinating article in September 2015 titled “Microaggression and Moral Cultures”5 published in the journal Comparative Sociology. Written by sociologists Bradley Campbell and Jason Manning, the article may help explain the dynamics currently manifesting in the U.S. society and why concerns of microaggressions have erupted on many American college campuses in the past few years (which I think definitely applies to other countries, too). So, what exactly does it argue?

In brief, we are undergoing a second major transition in moral culture6. Prior to the 18th & 19th century, most Western societies were cultures of honour, existing where the rule of law was weak. People had to avenge offenses, insults and violation of rights on their own via self-help violence (a reputation of rapid brutality and vengeance was thus important back in the day); failure to do so resulted in loss of social respect and status. The first major transition then occurred during the 19th century as the West became cultures of dignity, in which “people are assumed to have dignity and don’t need to earn it. They foreswear violence, turn to courts or administrative bodies to respond to major transitions, and for minor transgressions they either ignore them or attempt to resolve them by social means.  There’s no more duelling”.7 All citizens were legally endowed with equal rights, practicing tolerance that resulted in much more peaceful societies than those embodying the honour culture. Basically, it was the whole “sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me” gist.

Campbell and Manning now describe societies currently undergoing a second major culture transition: the culture of dignity into the culture of victimhood. It hybridises both the honour culture’s quickness to respond even to the slightest unintentional offense, with the dignity culture’s appeal for the help of third parties to whom they must make the case they have been victimized, so these administrative bodies or powerful authorities can police and punish transgressions. The result? People are urged to think of themselves as weak, marginalized and oppressed; everybody seeks to become a “victim”8. Within the broader context of the highly egalitarian & diverse culture we live in due to college campuses popping up all over the place and the rise in administrative bodies & regulations, the intensity of identifying oneself as a fragile & aggrieved victim is extreme. Here, the equation triggers an explosion of microaggression.

But of course, like every piece of literature, there were holes in the research – like, for example, the basic question of how this concept of microaggression should be applied. It’d be interesting to use Sue’s list of microaggressions9 with college students and see if minority students feel offense in the same way Sue and his researchers did. Personally, I didn’t for all the Asian stuff. And of course, they failed to take into account the subjectivity of microaggression; if it is truly in the eye of the beholder, where should the blame be placed (if any) if the beholder knows nothing of the third party? There is so much scope – we could delve into white privilege, marginalized groups, and the uprising of meritocracy. With the evolving culture of victimhood, there is paralleled swiftness in reading negativity into lots of things in life, but let’s call it microaggression when we’re belittled on the basis of stereotypes or with malevolent intent.

I hope you don’t take all of this the wrong way.


1, 2, 3, 9. Sue DW, Capodilupo CM, Torino GC, Bucceri JM, Holder A, Nadal KL, Esquilin M. Racial microaggressions in everyday life: implications for clinical practice. American Psychologist. 2007; 62(4): pp. 271-286.

4, 7.  Haidt, J. Where microaggressions really come from: A sociological account. [online]. 2015. [cited June 27th, 2017]. Available at: http://righteousmind.com/where-microaggressions-really-come-from/.

5. Campbell B & Manning J. Microaggression and moral cultures. Comparative Sociology. 2014; 13(6): pp. 692-726.

6, 8. Bailey, R. The Rise of the Culture of Victimhood Explained. [online]. 2015. [cited June 27th, 2017]. Available at: http://reason.com/blog/2015/09/08/the-rise-of-the-culture-of-victimhood-ex.

DeAngelis, T. Unmasking ‘racial micro aggressions’. American Psychological Association. 2009; February: p. 42.

McWhorter, J. ‘Microaggression’ Is the New Racism on Campus. [online]. 2014. [cited June 27th, 2017]. Available at: http://time.com/32618/microaggression-is-the-new-racism-on-campus/.


A Sense of Entitlement: A Malignant Tumour?

       One sunny April day, I decided to drop into my old high school, and naturally beelined towards the music department. After exchanging all the How Are You’s and the How Has University Been’s and Any New Aspiring Musicians In School’s with my old music teacher & guiding mentor, we began conversing about the evolution of job opportunities and whether millennials should be dubbed the “Me Me Me Generation” (the phrase coined by Times magazine back in 2013). As he furrowed his forehead in concentration and interlaced his fingers, he said, “It’s called a sense of entitlement – you just graduate and suddenly expect to be immediately working in the top ranks. But that’s not how it works; you gotta climb up.”

           From that day onwards, the phrase attracted to my mind like a magnet because I could finally put a title to what I observed so frequently. The rates of entitlement are unsurprisingly high around me – the very fact my parents were able to send my siblings and me to private, international schools around Asia is more than enough to say what kind of cohort I was brushing shoulders with. But don’t get me wrong – everybody contains symptoms of a sense of entitlement (SoE), including myself. An example of why this may be is because we, the millennials, grew up watching reality TV shows, most of which are documentaries about narcissists. I don’t necessarily say this in a negative way, but it somewhat trained us to be “reality TV ready” – that is, we are able to define our personality types when we’re 13 instead of 30, which is a huge evolutionary jump.

            For a deep-dive analysis into the heated discussions of whether millennials have higher rates of a sense of entitlement, it’ll have to be saved for another long-winded post. So, just to put my bare opinions out there first: I stand on the middle-ground with the issue. I believe millennials are extremely passionate and optimistic, embrace the system, and are pragmatic visionaries. We are tinkerers more than dreamers; industrious life-hackers. Perhaps our SoE is a result of our adaptation in a world of abundance. Yet simultaneously, our SoE can be extraordinarily tiresome – with social media becoming such an integral, staple part of our lives, so does narcissism and its partner in crime, entitlement. Personally, I think if you’re constantly exploring the curiosities of life rather than demanding so much from it, then that’s what matters. Living life completely free of a SoE is almost impossible.

         Anyhow, during the tedious revision period back in May, I remember going over oncology. All the tumour-suppressor genes, CDKs, and oncogenic viruses just suddenly seemed all metaphorical to me (one of those days), so I crafted this weird link between malignant tumours and the concept of entitlement. As I finally have spare time (and limited knowledge), I decided to try my hand at creating an infographic describing the similarities I was envisioning in my head. Hope you enjoy!


Sense of Entitlement Infographic.jpg






Seven Emotions That Follow a Sense of Entitlement



An Arena, Historical Landmark & Apartment Block

      So, if this were a game where you must draw a connection between these three places, my answer would be memories. That’s what I used to think of – vivid concerts provoking newly discovered human senses, tourist attractions bustling with awe, and home sweet home.

          But in just less than a month, my answer has changed to tragedy.

          Tragedies struck in each of these places in the UK; every media outlet was suddenly alert, and social media began receiving immense traffic. And, like any normal person, I felt vastly hollow and utterly powerless upon hearing the news. So many lives were taken – God bless the families who were affected – and, you know what?

           It baffled me.

         Yes, it did. Of course it made me outrageous, no doubt, but even more so, it really, really baffled me. How great of a satisfaction can one receive in the act of cold-blooded killing? How could one even receive fulfilment if the void was filled with empty, disgusting cowardice?

            And, most importantly, why is innocence the target of death?

        It screwed my mind up thinking about it, so instead of searching for answers, I searched for something a little more abstract.

            I quickly realised, something beautiful emerged from each of these horrific events, something so incredible that you only witness in dire times: selflessness. The London Metropolitan Police were heroes the night of the London Bridge attack – they risked their own lives, and in that 8-minute response time, saved goodness knows how many other lives that night. And then there was London’s Major Trauma network in the same incident – the rapid response of the medics & the London Ambulance Service was extraordinary. Because, guess what – of the 48 victims admitted to the hospital in time for medical attention, every single one of them have survived their injuries. The NHS also worked tirelessly to help victims in the Manchester Attack, including NHS staff who happened to be attending a conference in Manchester, whilst the police continue to investigate into this horrific terrorist attack. Then there was the devastating Grenfell Tower fire in West London more recently; 12 people are currently confirmed dead. But once again, the London Fire Brigade arrived just 6 minutes after the fire was reported, and it took them a jaw-dropping 10 hours to douse the flames.

          Ariana Grande organised an entire benefit concert for 50,000 fans at Old Trafford cricket ground, two miles away from the arena, raising almost £3m for victims of the Manchester Attack. To see all the worldwide-famous singers fly straight into Manchester to perform purely out of the goodness of their hearts was incredibly heart-warming, and so extremely humbling. And as Ariana walked out one last time, blowing kisses to the concertgoers, a hushed silence fell over the crowd as she closed with a beautiful, emotional rendition of “Somewhere Over The Rainbow”. There were tears in her eyes, and for a while, I didn’t realise there were tears in mine too. It was a concert by heroes, for heroes. 


          But the heroic fire of gold burned even brighter, if that’s possible, because who could ever forget the public? The public was such an integral role in all of the incidents. Bystanders kept victims alive with simple first-aid skills; in the face of horror, people did not panic, but rather, harboured a calmness that ensured everybody’s safety. Cafes threw open their doors and offered free refreshments for the heroic firefighters in the Grenfell Tower tragedy. Chris Parker, a homeless man who heard the bang in the Manchester Attack, ran towards the danger and helped people get out of the foyer – he is one of the many heroes who shined in Manchester’s darkest hour. These are only a few examples of the heroism that illuminates through the sludge of violence and tragedy; a beacon of hope, that screams, “We are still here!” because who could tear us down if we grasp each other’s hands tightly?

              I am incredibly lucky to have not been directly affected by the events. Sure, I was at Borough market the day before the London Bridge incident, scarfing down a falafel wrap. Sure, I attended the Shawn Mendes concert at the O2 after initial fear hearing about what happened at Ariana Grande’s concert. But it doesn’t mean I was connected to the three tragedies – I just kept going on with life, and that’s that. It’s what you have to do. I’m simply lucky.

             But I am not relieved; I am not at ease. I know I’m not native to this country and simply a student here, and I know I’m only knowledgeable on what I can read from personal accounts on social media and what I can watch on BBC News. But as a bystander in this time of instability, I can honestly say how thankful I am. Thankful for the NHS services, thankful for the Metropolitan Police, thankful for the brigade, thankful for everybody who extended a helping hand even if it meant risking their own lives.  And this is why I am writing this post, not because I’m afraid, but because I am thankful. I hope one day I can do the same as the courageous people who put their life out on the line to help others.

            I guess what I’m trying to say boils down to this: do not give into fear. Do not back down. Because if we do, we lose more of the freedom we seek to protect. A map may contain well-defined borders around every single country, but that isn’t representative of the universal kindness in people’s hearts – in fact, there are no borders. Because whatever nationality you are, wherever you were born in this world, we all want peace. And it’s our duty as a human to fight for justice.

To end, I have a quote from Yip Harburg, the lyrical writer of “Somewhere Over The Rainbow”, explaining the meaning behind the song: 

“We worked for in our songs a sort of better world, a rainbow world. Now, my generation unfortunately never succeed in making that rainbow world, so we can’t hand it down to you. But we could hand down our songs, which still hang on to hope and laughter … in times of confusion.”

Yip Harburg

Quite right, isn’t he? Stay strong, my friends.

Oh, and as for that three-word game, I’d like to now change my answer: heroism.



“Kataware Doki” / “Cheap Thrills” | Piano Mashup

“Kataware Doki” by RADWIMPS – From the beautiful film, “Your Name”. If the soundtrack was a landscape, it’d be the Northern Lights. It is the feeling of your mind exploding with chaos, panic and disorder but simultaneously embodying serenity, tranquility and solitude. This is life, this is kataware doki – broken, fragmented, but a beautiful twilight that is not daylight but not quite nighttime either. Constantly shifting, but unknowingly macroscopically similar. It’s meant to be that way.

“Cheap Thrills” by Sia – Oddly relatable. Easily satiated, but for a darker reason. Forgetting, despite being temporary, gives you a bit of distraction and sometimes that’s everything you need. Human, naked and vulnerable, but being okay about that. Learning.