My Christmas Wish List.
- Red nail polish
- Van Cleef & Arpels malachite necklace
- Tom Dixon candles
- Japanese eyeliners
- The courage to demand
- Bottega Veneta hobo bag in red
- A trip back to when I was five years old skipping in wheatfields in the countryside. Not to change anything, but to live those moments twice. People always say that we knew who we were during childhood. Whatever you spent most of your time doing is what you truly enjoy in life. We enter classrooms and unlearn ourselves just to spend the majority of our adulthood to rediscover those childhood interests. And I spend my angsty moments recalling who I was. The girl that roamed freely by herself in breezy autumn days.
I held an absolute certainty in myself and my will to come into this world. Many of those who were conceived as “an accident” or would’ve been aborted question their position in the world. But I have never ever doubted whether I should be here. After the birth of my elder sister, my mom aborted a female fetus because she wanted a boy. Then I came along and was almost aborted as well. But she was forced to keep me in fear that a second abortion will hinder her ability to conceive a boy (and because my grandma told her that she’ll go to hell for killing fetuses for sexist reasons). My aunt asked me how knowing that I wasn’t supposed to be here made me feel. I told her that the previously aborted girl was me as well, this is my second attempt to come into this family. If my current self was aborted, my mom’s next child will be me once again! I choose to be here. I demand a life here.
I wander this earth with utter self-assurance. Even though there were moments in my life that I didn’t want to be here anymore, I always was confident that I hold the pen to my narrative. The girl that roamed freely by herself in breezy autumn days lived in radical freedom. She chased after butterflies and toads and snakes; She frolicked in cornfields and stole from her neighbors’ apple trees; She collected random pebbles on the street to sell to her friends while telling extravagant lies about the origin of the rocks. This is who I am to my core.
I kept the butterflies in a matchbox thinking I can raise them as pets, only to wake up to a box full of dead butterflies because I took away their oxygen. The toads and snakes I caught were either smacked out of my hands or killed by my grandpa for medicinal uses. I got in trouble for stealing of course, and got punished by the teacher for scamming my friends. These weren’t some soul crushing lessons about reality to me, I found them all to be funny and lively. Even the dead butterflies. How silly for a child to learn about death through attempting to contain an innately free being.
I know who I am to the core, though it’s hard to pin down a definitive answer. An outlaw? A scammer? A curiosity? A loner? A maverick? A vagabond? A business man? A liar? A nature’s daughter? Anyway, I’d like a trip back to when I was five years old skipping in wheatfields in the countryside to relive those perfect snapshots of my soul.
- Celsius in strawberry guava
- World peace
- Carel mary janes in red
