1001 Ways to Embarrass Yourself While Avoiding Injuries

 no one comprehends your loneliness you who are suspended// between// two countries, hanging in flux in time and space, digitally exiled and yet equally plugged in. You know all the hot issues in the US election, and yet you cannot vote,  you know next to nothing about the politics of your own country. Foreign student, all greased up with idioms and chicken soup, shiny and slick with the heavy hopes of your family for that Coveted Big U.S. Degree to hang on a wall, to continue upwards and outwards.  you return home halfway through a semester,  not in disgrace but in haste, fleeing the advance of a virus you don't understand-  no one does, don't worry.  C'est la vie. This is life. Fuck, i am both mature for my years, and an imbecile in other ways. I know how to set up a La Grange equation, i cannot boil an egg. I am fool and foolish, I am loved and beloved, america is as distant as a dream, i can't believe i used to walk down its Boston streets and eat turke...

 i want to sallow you whole, i want to kiss you, become you- i want to possess you,  to be everything and anything that defines you. Is this love? Is this love? Is this murder of the Self subjugated to One's lover- how could I love someone as much as I loved myself ; i don't know how to separate you from me we are two-egg beings, Yin Yang he is and he isn't embrace me , my love taste the sun on my lips and feel the sway of my hips

  so the Girl played proletariat in the high morning, and decried Amazon and Jeff Bezos as late stage capitalism and so the Girl in the afternoon began to read Edward Said and decried the evils of self-orientalizing in this day-n-age. the Girl in the evening began to turn off the aircon and decried it as polluting the environment the Girl for supper did not have any meat or milk and decried the cruelty of separating mother from calf. but the Girl for dessert had unethical ice cream where minimum wage was not paid, but the Girl ordered her Converse and her H&M fastfashion from sweatshop workers in BangladeshVietnamYouNameIt but the Girl ordered textbooks on Amazon! but the Girl had a Dell childlabor laptop! but the Girl ate foie gras! but the Girl denied everything- "for there is no ethical consumption under Capitalism" the Girl said. 

The happiest day i drink teh tarik in the morning and read the newspaper the sun is gently shining, the house is quiet but not silent a good book writing a script

friends who love and cherish me always a loving, funny partner who desires me, kind and well-read and treats me with respect a healthy, happy family a job <3

You were ashes to ashes dust to dust, my dearest, brown girl skin glistening; listen from what i was borne i will return to; the snake chases it tail and created the world- a never ending loop of karma, rebirth and glory, Mother Mary and her son both holy you light the candle in the many houses of one God. i seek the light and freedom from jealousy, i venture to many lands, begging and seeking succor, but little did i know the biggest journey comes from within. The Wheel of Life spins ten gurus within and without the wonderous lives  i want to understand, the spirituality, the one  path, but is there one path? I apologize for being jealous- I apologize for  not taking responsibility, I apologize for the  ego and the mundane way i threw your name  about dear Lord, but blind faith is a journey the wheel of Life continues to spin the mortal i am i put my jeans on and continue the journey within.

i want to turn my heart inside out for you to see and swim in the warm south china sea with you and go watch the fisherman reel in their catch with you ketam ikan keli ikan bawal sotong and run my fingers through the sand i want to show you my heart and walk through georgetown with you marvel at pre world war two shophouses and the Masjid Kapitan Keling and taste the flavors that abound in this green land of mine and maybe yours

 i hardly know what i'm doing the easy way eludes me makes me reconsider  when he grabs me by the waist and says you make me think of  eating the stars so i can put their light in you I reply no need for their light has already suffused my being, can't you see? he kisses me and says yes i can taste the stars

Is this going where she thinks it is going? Of course it is, there is but one direction for it to go, and it is nowhere. How can she expect someone like that to stop and say that's ok if you don't want sex that's fine and I will love you forever until we eventually get married and pop some half-n-half babes out? so they break up, her and Raul the spicy Salvadoran. He kisses her gently on her forehead before he takes his leave. Suddenly she is craving pupusas that he used to buy for her.  And then she is back in Malaysia, and it is too easy to forget Raul ever existed. That he didn't exist merely on a timeline somewhere on Facebook or on her Instagram. That he used to sleep next to her and smile at her gently.  Instead, she is thrust back into the hectic tempo of the 'doing good' worklife; a lack of work/Netflix balance. She reconnects with Frieda, or Freed as she is affectionately called.  "Why do you spend your time chasing approval?" she asks, chewin...

I still have Pinkerton syndrome , chasing white men desiring their approval, its so strange what i thought i had  long ago disavowed.  Masters Programs political science political economy environmental management environmental policy urban planning econs?

The worst thing was not the fear that they were going to come at night to take you away; it was when it morphed into a general unspecified fear that they were going to come any minute. Even worse was not having any idea what they would take you away  for , so that you could not prevent yourself from doing it or preparing excuses beforehand. That was deliberate, I thought, so that when they finally got you, you would be shocked despite yourself, despite knowing in your bones that it was soon or at least someday, and would confess to whatever they dreamed up. But you would always say, or so I heard, that you didn't know it was bad. Which was the worst thing of all, because it was true. Who they were remained an unsolved mystery shrouded in suspicion and superstition and fear. All I knew was that the work I was doing was important, and somehow important things have a way of attracting the wrong kinds of people. Especially when the work you are doing means you have accidentally, qui...

. We have hinted at what The Woman Warrior's genre is before--what is it? How would you describe Maxine Hong Kingston's style of prose? How does it function? What are the relationship between the narrator's life, myth, and her mother's background? 'The Woman Warrior' can be classified as 'talk-story,' which has its origins in Haiwaiian, meaning to chat or gossip. It is tempting to relate this to MHK's own life, as she moved to Hawaii after participating in anti-war protests to write 'The Woman Warrior' as well as 'China Men' (1980). MHK has an extraordinarily lucid and poetic style of prose- almost as if she is dreaming, which brings to mind William Blake's messy fever dreams. Her stylistic choice perhaps plays into how she intends to communicate her subject matter- the stuff of legend. However, in 'Shaman,' when she is talking about her American life, instead of relating Brave Orchid's, her mother, stories, t...

 if i had a choice i would choose you and you know this, you do but i used to deny myself the one i really wanted because i was used to thinking That i would never get it it being you and you being the one i really want.  You know? But you being in the abstract sense, Not a definite person. Not at all Because as Rumi said what you seek  Is also seeking you and I know this is the universe speaking in  rhymes and I know that everything I want is already contained within me and that patience is a virtue My life whirls as a whirling dervish turkish delights in every bite and the broken halves become whole once more tamam shud

on my knees anno domini the church is silent oscar walks to the priest and weeps, no longer violent the shaved head, the high cheekbones, he is almost beautiful and I long for him to love me virgen de guadalupe mi vida  mi amor he begs for forgiveness  the candles are lit and incense floats  the ache spreads like liquid fire inside of me instead of exploding doing the reverse becoming a blackhole threatening to engulf everything sucking in my emotions until I can feel no more. Our Father who art in heaven and then we fall into each other a fierce tangible but invisible love leaving no permanent trace which almost devastates me more. his teardrop tattoo glistens and appears to give him the look of always crying but never really doing so he looks me in the eye and caresses the small of my back it took me so long to find you, i say and he says so it will take me even longer to leave you and  at this, i understand patience is virtuous gracias virgen de guadalupe our Mo...

How then, and why, suddenly, in this faraway land with four seasons and different spellings, did I long for the humid, tropical jungle of home? It was hard to explain- it was not exactly homesickness, but more an acute sort of love. Very painful and deep in the sewers of the heart, it came unbidden and unannounced inside your soul and mind. It was not that I remembered the jungle particularly well, or even liked it. On the contrary, it was because I had disliked it so much- that vile greenness, the sticky muddiness of the soil and humid festering inside the claustrophobic space, that it had imprinted upon my malleable and impressionable mind and represented to me, home. I began to crave spicy things and began to act very carefreely when I was around other Malaysians. There was a certain comfort to being glib about serious things when you are in the company of your countrymen and women because there exists an invisible shield about you that allows you simply to be. The cultivated Amer...

Nina Bhamra- Meet Nina, the bubbly life of the group whose love life never quite seems to work out as planned. The Psychology major of the group, she's constantly trying to give the rest of her friends advice on how to deal with their lives. Accidentally gets them in trouble when she steals cocaine from her local drug dealer. Ping Pong Jones- Athletic, attractive and a 6'1 ping pong player (in more ways than one), Ping Pong is the wisecrack and smartass that you've been waiting for. Gets her friends out of trouble all the time. Jacob Jacobs- the stereotypical hot white boy that befriends said drug dealer and fucks everyone over. The only reason that they ever get into frat parties. The Chingster Chong- the lesbian musician who is slightly problematic and coincidentally successfully hacks into the North Korean nuclear arsenal and is recruited by a top secret army base in Bakersfield, California.

Chicken salad garnished right you want to be white If you open your eyes I promise you will see The very best parts of me down down down with the revolution and wear an apron make urself palatable to the MASSES. Does it sell if SO call 911 and what's your emergency? cultural barrier language breakdown you are prettier with your hair down... No he's not single, he's got a white girl she's looking for some chocolate swirl she bends like a reed to his will I hate your eurocentric beauty standards. Chicken salad garnished right tomatoes cherries; they don't bite. Have you loved a boy so bad he's good? No, you say, I LOVED a girl.

Yay. Today is great. Got internship but left on read by C. Is he even into me? Doesn't seem like it. I wish that my love life was abundant with attractive men who are super interested in me and unafraid of commitment. Is this going to happen? Maybe. Maybe not. IDK. This sucks. Stay tuned for more perfunctory but relatable content.

oh god, I thought to look at you your head was brown, eyes blue. your whiteness was the problem here it made me want to disappear. you were, Mein Gott, so good so right you even asked if you could take a bite so fragile so wondering and I understand if you don't want this again I'm haunted by the thought of you inside me outside is cold, you tried you put it inside my opening I like you I said you said I'm sorry I had a bad breakup it's - "NOT YOU!"I interrupt. I know where this is going! No no no you say not like that you hug me before you leave. wunderbar Wunderbar you are what a lovely lad come again please i'll open up and this time it'll be better, so fun so tight so wet so much to give Mein Gott oh oh OH!

He had a nasal voice that somehow retained its deep timbre, which produced in me a flurry of sensations. He had broad hands, with tapering fingers that were neither elegant or artisan, but very nimble. He had a way with words that made up for his eclectic arrangement of features- a too big smile with extremely straight, pearly white, surgically perfected-looking teeth on ebony skin. He was not too much taller than 5'7 or 5'8 at most, with broad shoulders and a narrowing streamlined torso. I was deeply attracted to him, and his callous manner, well-oiled like the future politician he would become. There was a sense that he was constantly waiting for something to argue with, to expend his charming sleaziness on, his plateau of well-worn platitudes that he had carefully chosen. There was one he was particularly proud of, his controversial opinion on civil war statues. "I mean," he said, lubriciously, palms on the table then clasped together, "I always think of t...