I saw the first snow in Beijing, the first time I've seen snow in China. My China never snowed... it was always summer when I came in the last few years, or it was my Southern home, always hot and humid. In my memories of summer, we'd lie flat on the bamboo bunk on the ground, with the screen door closed, desperate for some wind, listening to the summer locusts buzzing, and trying to make contact with every inch of of cold surface left on the bamboo bunk... But I'd never have thought of it as "inch." Anyways, those childhood days didn't have purpose, or discontent, or unhappiness. Every afternoon, a storm would gather, and it'd pour violently for a brief while, releasing all the tension built up throughout the day. The Yulan trees outside would drop leaves everywhere, and there'd be relief from the heat.
But snow in China is like seeing snow for the first time. But it doesn't feel real without having someone here with me to share it with.
I've been holed up in my room for the last 2 weeks, unable to make a decision about grad school. But now I've finally decided to wait till next fall... applying was simply a way to run away from many other things I was afraid of facing. What happened to my decisiveness when I was 16? It did take me several weeks of thinking, list-making, reflecting to decide to move out of my parents' place... but leaving my uncle's place was one of those decisions made in a moment of clarity, when I knew, instantly and without doubt, that this was what I must do.
I haven't cried or gotten angry in a month. Nor had an intense orgasm. I need release bad. Been going to the gym a lot to work up a sweat, just to relieve some of the tension. I feel so bound by physical needs... Build up of hunger, satiation; exhaustion, rest; pressure, release; desire, release... But I can only meet about half of these right now, and it doesn't suffice. I'm missing the exhaustion, the pressure---and therefore the rest and release. I wish it would storm! The harsh Beijing winds whipping sand into your face have never actually delivered the thunderstorm I'd expect. All this fury and build-up, and no release! The times it has rained, it's been pathetic drizzles too. Not enough drama in my life I guess.
Last weekend I went to a talk given by Cui Zi'en, the foremost queer director in China. He said in one casual line what took me years to figure out: most Chinese people overseas, their mindsets are still the way they were when they left China years ago...
The other thing he said that really resonated was 我们尘土飞扬的生活 here in china. He dislikes using HD and sticks to DV format in his films, because he feels HD is too plastic, that it doesn't really reflect the way our lives here are filled with dust--to crudely translate a picturesque Chinese phrase. The grime in New York is nothing compared to the amount of dust in Beijing. It's not dirty, but even in the most luxurious places that I could never afford to shop in, there's still the same kind of dust that sticks to you every time you go out. I no longer open my porch windows, because even a few hours will leave a thin layer of dust on my computer. It's funny how it works; even the most shiny, expensive, polished people have to breathe this same dusty air.
Anyways, in the middle of his talk, he held up a stack of books about film festivals, but being an adorably soft gay man, he couldn't support them on his arm. The other guy standing by went up and held them for him, but Cui Zi'en looked at me and demanded that I go up and hold them for him, because he usually has his "lala husband" holding up heavy stuff for him, and since she wasn't here, I could pretend to be the replacement... We have never met before. I thought he was kidding at first, but he kept looking at me with adorable, expectant eyes, hehe, until I went up and played the part, trying not to look awkward holding a stack of books up in the air for a couple minutes... while he went on about the films discussed in the books.

4 comments:
found you! hope you're doing well in shanghai.
you missed another snowstorm in beijing today. it dropped six inches and the snow hasn't all melted off yet. bleah.
so so so so so happy to be reading this, however many months late. your writing is poetry, the thoughts that bounce back from my mind are too many to count. the word is too easily thrown around, but with the most sincerity i'm saying: you are loved, ana
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