even tomato plants (they also remind me of thailand)

As luck would have it (or financial restraints rather), I'm back within the borders of the U.S. Kinda like it, kinda don't. What I would've liked to have done? Find a good trail in Hong Kong. Hike it alone.

Being back, I'm a conflict of restlessness and sloth. I've unpacked for the sake of space and clean underwear, but that only means that everything is piled on desks and the free spaces of my bed. I've had fitful nights of sleep where I have woken up in contorted positions I didn't think I was capable of in various corners of the bed. It also irritates me how compulsively wasteful everything is here, so big yet so congested.

Other things of change: Hong Kong Supermarket had gone up in flames (mysteriously or for insurance purposes, who knows?), closing up the entire street. Two of my best friends have begun healthy, happy relationships. My mother has started (strangely) to dress better.

I, myself, am two shades darker (three, if you look at the tops of my feet), and quadruple in cynicism.

However, in reflection of these past four months, I can't say I'm very proud of much of my behavior. I think I become condescending and disrespectful in response to situations of which I have no control and/or force me to be complicit to an oppressive framework whose impacts are potentially more destructive than neutral. That is a pretty large stab, I think. I'm pretty sure I've said the above on many occasions though less eloquently and probably with tears and anguish. One friend had said on occasion that the trick is to be completely dead inside. That way, everything is just beer and rock n' roll from then forth.

So anyway, I was dead inside for 24 hours coming back. And then, a friend called to say, "So, are you hiding under your covers?" Truth be told, that was close to truth. I was actually huddled in fetal position on a yoga mat, watching reruns on Bravo. Then, I realized the very true nature of all the activities I've been complicit in (including the ones I've initiated). Then, I cried (some more).

On a quest to becoming a more spiritual person, I am cutting PerezHilton out of my life. In response to this rather large hole, I have taken up gardening.

And that is how I now have four tomato plants in my backyard.

In pulling out the weeds for growing space, my mother also encouraged me to stick around to take care of the rest of the weeds in the grassy space, a nuisance that she has said, has grown back even despite repeated chemical appliance in addition to manual force. I don't understand why anyone would want to get rid of anything that doesn't interfere with what is necessary. You weed enough to let certain plants grow. What a strange logic to equate all weeds with the level of eye sores and baddies... but maybe poets who pen dandelions and milkweed as muses don't exactly have green thumbs. Maybe I will feel differently when things grow out more.