"I am both right and left" -- something I've come to understand about myself with sharp clarity lately.
The left in me stems from realizing I am a person driven by anger. Angry because I'm awake, awake because I'm angry. But there are plenty of moments when I question whether I'm truly angry for the same cause, or whether I've simply grown into yet another cynical leftist.
I've always kept the incel community as a cautionary mirror, because I know -- viscerally -- that I carry a deep and enormous anger toward the gay community. This anger is born from the intersection of being East Asian, being effeminate, being slight in build, and everything these layers produce: the scream of the oppressed.
Cancel culture is never pretty but it is and will always be there, so either you make peace with it, or you'll want to kill yourself. I choose to make peace, even when I'm still constantly experiencing the general hatred from every interaction with the gay community.
It's not that I've resigned myself to the role of victim, dutifully hoisting the banner of how the world has wronged me, shouting my anger for everyone to hear. The opposite, actually. I've been deliberately placing myself in different spaces, feeling every rejection -- or every less-than-ideal interaction.
I work out. I study. Because I want to know: if I bring myself closer to the so-called mainstream, will the discomfort I encounter change? Or is the world always the same muddy water I see when I'm stepped on -- the only difference being that sometimes I become the one splashing filth onto others.
I hope not. I'm certain I don't want to.
When I say I'm right-leaning, it's because I've always come from a class with choices -- or rather, I'm constantly trying to optimize everything so that I always have different options. I've poured enormous effort into building and maintaining what I have, and into reaching where I am now. Not perfect, but I like the version of myself that can stretch out freely.
I often think: if you keep trying to turn a place into a web where you can curl up comfortably, that web will eventually become a cocoon that binds you, a thick bubble that blocks you from feeling life as it really is. I will never understand people who move to another culture but refuse to try assimilating, choosing instead to build yet another homeland bubble.
I also can't quite understand when you keep complaining that the pay is too low, the hours too long, the immigration policy too broken -- but can't take any other action to make yourself a more autonomous person. That only proves you're not talented enough, not smart enough, and absolutely not working hard enough. So you need to either expose your suffering or boast about your achievements to wrap your fragile ego in layers of transparent bubble wrap.
"If you're not working hard enough and all you do is complain, without thinking about how to take action, that only proves you don't belong."
Every friend I've met who lives in a city outside Taiwan has spent tremendous effort and cost finding a place of rest -- both body and soul -- in a foreign land. It's not that we don't love Taiwan, or that we're trying to prove something. We just happen to know we need distance, space, to carefully examine our love for Taiwan and for the many, many things you can't see clearly when you're standing inside them.
I've forced myself to encounter malice on different levels. Sometimes malice isn't displayed on purpose -- it appears in careless indifference, when a sharp edge suddenly cuts your soul. But I still treasure every moment a new, shining soul walks into my life. When, for a brief instant, our light intersects -- that is what drives me to believe in humanity again.
Gentleness is a choice. Gentle people are not unaware of how to hurt others. They know, and then choose not to. That's why they choose to slice a small part of their own soul into fine points of light, hoping to illuminate both themselves and the other person.
I hope I am often a gentle person.
I dislike the far left that exposes suffering and attributes all pain to structural problems. I despise the far right that boasts of achievement and insists everything has its rightful, appointed place.
Stay angry. Because anger keeps me awake. But each time a small expectation falls through, I will still try to summon the courage to face the world, and treat every soul with gentleness.