yi★zhen

maybe remembering…

  • Our Senses

    A solo exhibition by Choco Goh

    It starts before entering the space. With the climbing of stairs, dust piled along its edges, pressure on the beds of your feet and in your knees. Passing by the first floor – a studio filled with messy artefacts – you hear it before you see it. Soft melodic piano notes by Euseng Seto ripple in the air. Where do your senses start, and where do they end? The space welcomes you to Our Senses.

    Choco Goh presents 3 series of works in the intimate Greydea Studios. Series 01: a series of prints, instructions, and an answer sheet. Glossy prints on the wall are each paired with a question the audience has to respond MCQ-style. Splashes of high-impact colour stand in front of you, bands and pools of colours melt into vibrant gradients. To immerse oneself in making a decision, sometimes you take a step forward, sometimes you take a step back. The last three colours have accompanying melodies, you don’t expect them to gel but they do.

    These questions we answer serve as part of the artwork, asking: “How do you feel? What’s in your mind? Anything it reminds you of?”. The mind wanders to form connections towards each art print, only to find that the answer we hold isn’t an option on the list. It seems here we interact with the invisible “our” in Our Senses. Prior to this showing, contributors were gathered to “a sensorial preview of visual and sound”. Friends of the artist, both old and new, came together to freely submit their responses wherein popular answers were curated into the 3-4 MCQ options we now get to choose from. Some choices are more direct connections: “(A) Energy, (B) Sour, (C) Reggae or Brazil, (D) Sky” for a green-yellow linear gradient; some others less so: “(A) Womb feel warmth, (B) Intense stress, (C) Wong Kar Wai’s movie, (D) 80’s vibes” for a gradient mesh of green, pink, orange, brown. I went with a friend and comparing our answers at the end was a nice touch 🙂 

    Friction came from matching an answer at the cost of my personal one, on some answers it felt like I was lying. I could’ve left them blank, but my desire to connect with the closest answer was stronger. Rarely do I get to feel dishonest from an artwork, how exciting! While slightly irked by this, I try to interpret it as a respectful invitation to engage with a curated time and space inhabited by Choco and her friends. An exercise in decentering the self and giving up control, does my rouge opinion matter here? With pre-set answers, decision fatigue is relieved for the public, the stranger, the unfamiliar to abstraction. 

    By all means, these panels of colour are abstractions that interrogate our perception. For the common, abstract art’s undefined nature allows huge margins for personal interpretation. When what we see can be anything, we try to imagine the familiar, the comfortable, the easy. Choco breaks that by providing us with pieces that guide us into certain frameworks with those pre-curated answers and surprising melodies. What excites me about abstract art is how intentional it can be, trying to piece together feeling, form, and context into a wider narrative, bleeding into the real, bleeding into us. 

    What started off as a final-year project, the current iteration of Our Senses re-emerged after 10 years. You feel the sense of time unfold. Series 02 Long Thoughts During The Day starts off as diaristic prose, then adapted into a 15-minute film of hues blending in and out of each other. The score paired with this piece envelops the room and sets the tone, soft and slow. This was the first sense that welcomed you. Rays shine from a projector, gradients bleed from light to dark to light and bright, again and again. A publication of aforementioned prose acts as interpretation, but maybe one would rather imagine their own story, sat on the floor in front of a faux window.

    Series 03 A Moment in Our Lives is where the artist plays with paper and its form. On a clean table, sheets of white with printed gradients hold clean geometric folds. Served on plates and stands, these paper sculptures seem both familiar and unfamiliar. Initially conceived as a live performance, it was also recorded into a film. We see two figures sat across each other and the paper sculptures, gesturing a meal being eaten, yet their hands are empty and their mouths are closed. Is this a conversation? Can we speak to each other in colours? See each other through sound? Are you hungry too?

    In an age where our senses are overstimulated and time slips away from our fingertips, leaving sticky residue, Choco’s Our Senses tests our own presumptions of sight & sound, inviting us to slow down and explore the expansive realm our senses can take us.

  • noteables in 2025

    year of the snake also marks my second zodiac round. here’s to shedding and remaking.

    events

    • i’m glad you’re here – hosted, organised, created a farewell gathering in the disguise of an art exhibition. Celebrating friendship and the conditions surrounding it.
    • moving – back home after 3+ years in the UK
    • travelled – with my dad to a couple places in UK & Europe, and to SK with my mom and carmen. Ticked off visiting the last colonial power of Malaysia in the list (Netherlands)
    • the Whitworth – started work contract in february
    • tone in tongue – selected graphic/type/arts work to exhibit internationally
    • KL Zine Etc – volunteered for 3 days
    • baked – an expensive ass (but super yummy) cake at a workshop for sheen’s bday
    • Pezsta – incredible showing of what it aims to be
    • family – took photos professionally for the first time

    ⋆。 ﾟ☁︎。 ⋆。 ﾟ☾ ﾟ。 ⋆

    < consumables are all first-time experiences of the year, instead of 2025 releases >

    food

    Ultimately, another good year of food. I think my standards in food has increased, but I will still commit to eat whatever’s serviceable.

    • moosim – Fig bingsu & Fig Isaphan ice cream (among other many South Korean eateries)
    • Coneing Creamery – ice cream selection, all of them
    • Désa – Rijsttafel
    • Kung Fu Noodle MCR – Sesame paste 凉粉
    • Pastaleria Suica – Hot Chocolate
    • Shikomi Coffee – Hojicha latte
    • O.rang KL – Panna Cotta with Olive oil
    • Snoplus – Pistachio Shaved Ice
    • Christmas dinner at LA’s place

    games

    milk puzzle – margo

    made me feel crazy in such a good way. i think if i didn’t go to therapy i would be eleanor.

    abyssopelagic cable anomaly – hellodri
    • the reading is light but the depth is deep
    victim doll – Imitation Meat (DOMINO CLUB)

    made me feel less crazy but also unlocked new emotions in me that were quite exciting

    Letting Go – Little Moon Games

    played this the same time when i was packing with limited boxes, deciding what to leave and what to bring with… yar…

    Summer Studies in Japan – Kastel

    interested by the non-linear format to document thoughts, it adds another layer of conversational-ity

    Expedition 33

    well i mean…. hot take i think the story is okay, but the world is interesting and has potential. i LOVED the combat system only because i suck at QTE and i’m good with rhythm games. music is literally banger tho.

    1000xRESIST

    what a unique way to tell a sci-fi story within dev limitations. it rewards noticing, it rewards those who watch. i will think about it again and again.

    reads

    Dropped the ball on manga and comics, but read a bit more fiction that what I’m used to. Also started reading Substack, then fell out of it, something about it’s interface and the way I interact with it.

    • Human Acts – Han Kang
    • Butter – Asako Yuzuki
    • Bluets – Maggie Nelson
    • On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous – Ocean Vuong
    • The Climber – Shinichi Sakamoto
    • Golden Kamuy – Satoru Noda
    • Boku no Hero Academia – Horikoshi Kohei
    • what lives in the unseen – starting from nix

    music

    2025 was the first full year I went without Spotify and only went back to streaming (Tidal) in October for ease to play during drives. I’m more comfortable with silence now.

    • choke enough – oklou
      • fav track: want to wanna come back
    • Willoughby Tucker I Will Always Love You – Ethel Cain
      • fav track: Radio Towers/Dust Bowl
    • Blood on the Silver Screen – Sasami
      • fav track: Possessed
    • Off the Track Christmas Edition (gig)

    purchases

    i should track this better in the new year because i know i buy so many things

    • Printer (Brother MFC-T4500dw)
    • Custom perfume scent from Scents of Memento
    • Thrifted red clogs from JJJ’s closing sale (30sen)
    • Thrifted Paloma wool blue shoes (£20)
    • SanDisk Extreme E61 External SSD on Shopee 11.11 sale
    • Loads of art books and zines from everywhere, once again

  • returning; klabf 2025

    Consistency is a challenging thing to achieve in self-organising events, even more so for events in arts & culture, which is why I still made my way to KL Art Book Fair’s 5th edition over the weekend, despite feeling drained of energy. This made me slightly fearful with a pinch of dread, but from experience, there’s nothing a pair of wired earphones can’t solve. It also helped that I dropped by Donki (pre-site reset) to get some snacks, weaning myself into being around crowds.

    Anyways, the last time I’ve attended was the first iteration in 2021. A lot of things changed (venue, scale, curation), but some stayed the same (energy, design). I don’t have a reliable source of comparison, so quite curious to hear from people who have steadily watched its growth. Went for a single day ticket. Don’t think I would’ve had enough energy for 3 days, commute and all. As a friend mentioned, in an ideal world we could have two-day tickets, but alas that’s another layer of logistics for a small team.

    haul ! haul ! haul !

    Serving Suggestion vol.03
    by Further Reading Press

    Due to contributing a tiny snippet, this was gifted to me. Prose about Puchong Lok Lok street (#childhoodlove)! Was feeling nostalgic about home when overseas.

    activating people
    by Klang River Festival

    I really enjoy the social aspect of what they’re doing, and how they’re engaging with people through a space. It’s hopeful to know that it’s run by a youthful group, involving as many willing participants as possible.

    Tending Apart
    by New Naratif

    A part of me that feels guilty for knowing so little about the area I claim home, and that fuels a part of me to yearn and understand. Solidarity is a tricky thing when the land is wet – but does it always have to be? When buying this, I had a go at their prototype card game.

    Wet Pussy
    by t.i.n.y. studio

    I don’t tend to reach for meme-focused photo books, but the layout of it was intentional, and I could understand the author’s thoughts through it. Though perhaps, as with memes, it welcomes self-projection.

    Bunny Hopping
    by t.i.n.y. studio

    Mesmerised by the textures through layering, feels like a fresh take on depicting the ephemeral quality of memories to me. The reflection of finding similar patterns between various countries from travel is also appreciated.

    Reclaiming our Digital Land
    by WEDOGOOD RISO

    There’s an increase of attention towards our agency in digital spaces. I picked this up mainly as a reference point for others when conversation leads to it. In its pages are an easy primer for an average social media/internet user to explore alternative digital lorongs.

    581, Tanjung Bungah
    by Yee Hsean

    Another banger zine by softdovestevens that hits right in the feels. A memory shared that felt like a memory lived. What moved me was the recipe inclusion right at the end of it. My great-grandmother had so many recipes that I wish were recorded, that I wish I could ask.

    Plant, Gesture
    by Amanda Gayle

    Learned through conversation that this was made during idle bouts of a mundane routine job. Artists are everywhere – making as they live, living as they make. Got the grey cover which had a silver foil texture hehe. As each spread unfolds, two images side by side create a conversation, a question, an answer. Reminds me of Insta stories’ split collage view.

    The Mind Palace Where Memories Roam and Wither Away
    by Seerat

    I’ve been looking a bit into memory and how that can translate into subjects of creation. Just like Seerat, my interest comes from the fear of forgetting. In this zine, she takes the narrative form of a jester, giving out advice in a memory palace.

    Ithaca in the Cards + What Shall We Eat (bundle)
    by Aaron Lim

    Backed this on Kickstarter a while back, and coincidentally had the chance to pick up at KLABF. Met a friend while browsing at the booth, also learned that most of his audience come from USA or Japan, with not much response in the local market. I respect that people still create and find ways, but local support should be better. Haven’t had the chance to play it yet, but I’d love to.

    Anatomy x KLABF
    for myself

    The identity design this year is attractive and interesting as it has been. You can tell it’s been designed by more or less the same team or people with similar influences, and there’s not much fault in that. I believe Where’s Gut helped with a new spin on KLABF’s 5th round. Bright and deep colours lay on top of each other, textured and clean, something formulaic with its grid yet rhythmic by not following it. Ultimately I like it lah, I’m not immune to cuteness, to miniatures…so I got it eek.

    Mossery x KLABF
    for min

    Min’s old notebook was approaching its end, so I thought I’d purchase a gift for him. It was also convenient that Aisyah was working the booth at the time, feels easier to have a friendly chat when you’re a paying customer. I’m so glad Min loved the cover I picked out of all the different covers!! Reminded me of shaders and skins in different MMORPGs that he plays. New year, new notebook.

    To my surprise, most of my haul were publications. I think if I were younger, it’d be mostly prints and stickers. I did get a print and omamori charm by Pearl Slug Studio as a gift, but that was it. Perhaps I went into it with the mindset as an art book fair that I didn’t pay much attention to the trinkets? Or perhaps it’s the adult money. There were multiple reel recaps showcasing the fair’s offerings and I didn’t even see most of them when I went around. That’s testament to the scale of variety of products perhaps, and that’s healthy. Also because I spent most of my time talking to friends, new people, vendors, strangers…

    ⋆˙⟡☆ ˗ˏˋ ☆ ˎˊ˗  ☆⟡˙⋆

    Booths stationed closer to the stage have to manage (or battle) their conversations through booming speakers. Audio management has always been a tricky aspect to balance in open events, and it’s something you can’t aim to please everyone.

    It’s how I wandered into a talk by ReformARTsi about their Seni Untuk Semua (SUS) [what a beautiful name, chuckle-worthy] initiative. A grassroots group of artists campaigning for “policy change & reforms in Malaysia’s arts & culture sector.” Focusing on areas of: “arts education, funding & artists’ rights.”. It seems their main public action is a change.org petition. I appreciate that their posts on social media tries to include 4 languages, with individual posts in Tamil. A multi-prong approach is important for any social issue, so this call towards the government brings me hope that there are people working towards this, though I wonder if there’s good steps to empower action at the artist’s level… There is a cowardly affect in me that stems from my uncertainty in the art world.

    In conversation, someone asked my position in the arts and culture industry: I orbit its surroundings, creating graphics as a supporting actor. To then have to respond to the age old question: What is your boundary between art and graphic design? Well, it matters down to a certain point. Anyways, it made me aware about the question: what position do I want to be in the Malaysian arts industry as a graphic designer/visual communicator? Can I be?

    ⋆˙⟡☆ ˗ˏˋ ☆ ˎˊ˗  ☆⟡˙⋆

    I felt fulfilled, despite not being able to do some of the programme. It’s taken a while for me to let go of FOMO, understanding that sometimes it’s okay to expend my energy up to a safe limit. It’ll be dangerous to go further. This time I did take a 11 hour sleep + a low energy day to recharge, which is quite standard all things considered!

    Looking forward to what next year’s will look like, and how it aims to sustain the conversation of art book publishing.

  • easy does it

    I have to come to realise that I can be quite a resentful person. Small things would piss me off and I’m too cowardly to even say it. Though I find it easy to forgive because I wasn’t forgiven for my mistakes when I needed them the most.

    A drunk stranger told me I’m too smart for my own good. That one day I’ll be face-to-face with a barrel with my finger on the trigger. One cannot linger. Embarrassed at 24, I am unable to let go of resentment. I am walking on the path of a spiral, moving with time, yet that doesn’t negate the fact that my feet have arrived in the same spot from the past. I feel like I’ve hit a wall that I can’t even see.

    When you play games do you seek out boundaries of the world? Prodding at invisible walls wishing there was something more? For you, who tries to pay attention to things that avoid it by design? I do, to desperately seek out a reward, a sick salvation. The problem is, I can’t seem to find anything yet. In the end, a spiral path is still a well-taken one.

    Many are familiar with resentment as it turns into spite. I am unfortunate enough that spite can never fuel me, no matter how hard I try to make it work. Envious, to see others being able to burn a bright flame from oil doused onto them. A flicker in the dark is always attractive. I turn to gratefulness as a motivating factor, but on the other side of the coin, what then also makes me move is guilt. Truly, what guilt wields is self-destruction to a soul!

    I can no longer deliver a fatal bite for I have ground my canines down to flat nubs. But I am good at chewing, and chewing, and chewing, until anything rough turns to wet muck, transformed into pieces that I swallow. Yes, what the mouth does is transform the state of everything that passes through it. Does anyone stop to think how it would feel to chew yourself down? Does anyone stop to think about something else?

    Most of my life, I was praised for being easy. An easy baby to care for, an easy student in class, an easy daughter, an easy chat, an easy partner (at times). I wish it was easy for me to not be.

    Bah, but this is all so boring and annoying coming from someone who’s well-fed & sheltered. It’s disgusting, really. No one likes to save the self-pitied.

  • formication

    Formication is a sense of touch hallucination that feels like bugs in, on or under your skin.

    I lay on the marble floor, belly down, to feel my flesh pinch on top of its cool, hard surface. There is the tickle of air currents that flow around me. The sensation traces my limbs like a wave. Who does it meet when it crashes?

    Ants crawl on top of me. I’ve not seen an ant in ages. The tiny, black ones; ones that taste sweet when they drown in water, or perhaps it was because the water itself was sweet. It doesn’t matter, I drank it anyways. They stray from their path, lost, having to reckon with the fact that I might…swipe them off without even looking. Right now, I feel lonely.

    I’ve been back home for a week, and I’m forced to face a phenomenon that has bothered me growing up in Malaysia: living in the peripheries. I’m to assume being an adult is understanding that everyone’s main priority is their job, filling whatever space around them with it. I find my way around the gaps, in whatever’s left. It is childish and selfish to ask for more attention, when the reason of them working this hard is for you, and the reason you’re feeling this way is because you’re not working. Well, that’s projection, because I only feel bothered by the people I want to spend time with, the people that matter to me. And they are all extremely busy.

    Don’t be mistaken, I am also a perpetrator of this, guilty as charged. Being so busy that people don’t approach because they only think of me as busy. (That’s not true, please ask your local introvert – me – to hang out.) Nobody’s asking because I’ve made it hard to ask. Though sometimes I wonder if it’s a response to the people around me being busy… what are we even being busy about? The ants know their reason.

    Our ceiling fan disrupts the stagnant air for me because I can’t feel the outdoor breeze. I hear the whirring but I can’t see the spin, it makes me dizzy. Did you know that when you crush an odorous house ant, it secretes a distress pheromone? People describe it akin to “piss”, “blue cheese”, or “coconut”, but to me they smell like marker pen ink when you first open the cap. I confess that I enjoy the scent. Am I an ant? I feel the floor tiles grow slightly warmer, thermodynamics doing its thing.

    It’s only natural for people to care for their own lives, as much as I have agency in mine. What I’m actually bothered about is change. Change, as I’ve learned the hard way, distresses me a lot, as much as I lie, as much as I seem put together. Preparing for it is the only way I know how to soften the blow. But how much can you wane off the impact of moving countries in your formative young adult years? I’ll tell you a secret: I cried for 5 out of 7 days in the past week, not because I was sad, but because the change was too big for me to handle. Overstimulating, lack of routine, not knowing where the spoons are, disorientated, feeling like a stranger where people expect you to feel at home, lost.

    Even the local food that I’ve been very much looking forward to has been causing me gastrointestinal issues and runs to the bathroom. I’d like to imagine that would make even a seasoned hardened heart, cry.

    The stressors of change have been compounded by the fact that I’m pseudo-moving out from the house I grew up in Malaysia, and into my partner’s house. Which I’m extremely grateful for, every waking and sleeping moment. This is truly a blessing, I feel so happy, yet my brain still recognises it as a change. On its own, I’m able to process the complex emotions as a regulating adult, but overall all together? There is guilt.

    Alerted by the fall of their peers, ants crawl on top of me, probably smelling like whatever piss pheromones they’ve secreted on me. I let them only because in a wicked way, I miss them. Isn’t it weird that you can live in the UK and not have ants swarm your exposed Gregg’s donut after 10 minutes on the countertop? I grew up learning how to avoid these ants – that were everywhere around me – and now I can’t see a shell of them. I pinch myself in the elbow, where I felt traces of a bug. Only to find myself come up empty. There was no ant, all I did was pinch myself.

    Despite what’s been written, I’m not doomer about it. Oppositional feelings can exist simultaneously. There have been pillars in this life transition: my family (and however much stress they cause me), my partner (who is starting a new stage in his life too), friends who text me to check in on me (despite having their own lives), a new cat (my aunt’s), my 嫲嫲’s home-cooked food (that my stomach is calmed by). All of them welcoming me back into routine, by being in their own.

    It’s all part of the process. One day I’ll have hotpot with my friends at an ungodly hour and I’ll forgive it all. As someone who’s very much impacted by their quality & quantity of sleep, the heinous jet lag doesn’t help stabilise me. So… still laying on the floor, I take a nap, feeling the ants – real and imaginary.

    ⋆˙⟡☆ ˗ˏˋ ☆ ˎˊ˗  ☆⟡˙⋆

    Tangential notes on having an occasional itch under my skin from my are.na channel:

    ⋆˙⟡☆ ˗ˏˋ ☆ ˎˊ˗  ☆⟡˙⋆

    And a note to self, for there is no escaping effort:

    ⋆˙⟡☆⟡˙⋆

  • happy birthday, every year

    is it okay to be 24 and cry at every intense feeling

    is it okay to be 23 and believe you can make a life for yourself

    is it okay to be 22 and still reach for a blade

    is it okay to be 21 and hold on to hope

    is it okay to be 20 and hold resentment to heart

    is it okay to be 19 and suffer in silence

    is it okay to be 18 and feel like nothing’s real

    is it okay to be 17 and overwork because it’s the only way you know how to run from a feeling

    is it okay to be 16 and cry yourself to sleep because nobody actually thinks about you

    is it okay to be 15 and fall in love

    is it okay to be 14 and feel so lonely and self-critical

    is it okay to be 13 and believe that you can do this

    is it okay to be 12 and feel like you can’t

    is it okay to be 11 and think you’re better off somewhere else

    is it okay to be 10 and feel happy

    is it okay to be 9 and have friends

    is it okay to be 8 and don’t remember

    is it okay to be 7 and don’t remember

    is it okay to be 6 and don’t remember

    is it okay to be 5 and don’t remember

    is it okay to be 4 and don’t remember

    is it okay to be 3 and don’t remember

    is it okay to be 2 and don’t remember

    is it okay to be 1 and don’t remember

    is it okay to be 0 and be given life

  • a child returns

    thoughts on sadness, dying, creating happiness

    The other night I found myself repeating a memory from 4 years ago, rolling it in my mind until I ended up hacking my guts out from the intense sobbing. There was something in me that I had to get out. Yet, all I could muster was a mediocre wail.

    In it, I remember being woken up fully alert, how the sun had yet to emerge and the sky washed with a deep cerulean. I remember the exact texture of your silk nightgown, and how your voice sounded. I remember the night before I cried myself to sleep for reasons that felt extremely banal when crouched in front of you. Because I love you, and you’re supposed to love me back. Which was when I realised I never properly processed what had happened. Truly, it seemed like it never happened, the day went ahead as it was planned to. A hazy figment of my sleeping mind until its edges formed tangible, a glass marble lodged in my throat. A pressure that makes me want to puke so my only wish is for it to shatter into smaller pieces. Perhaps then I can swallow the shards.

    The timing of this has not evaded me, with only 3 months left in the UK before I return home. 3 years ago I left Malaysia with emotional immediacy – that is to say being close to family was a constant trigger and I was always crying, thinking that dying in a foreign land could be my release. What happens to a body away from its origin?

    In some ways, parts of me did die, and to my surprise, made new parts of myself from that emptiness. One night in Manchester I woke up sweating from a dream – cold night and bleeding out, dead in a foreign land. Scrambling for an anchor, it left me terrified. Not the death itself, but the location of where it happens. I recently learned that Abdul Razak died in London while seeking medical treatment. [1] His desire to spend his final moments in Malaysia was denied by a plane ride that would’ve been detrimental. [2] What image of Malaysia formed in his last thoughts? Perhaps one without me in it, without all ethnicities thriving and unafraid. [3] It would be rude to suggest that Malaysia did not want to receive his last living thoughts. It would be terrifying to think it could happen to me. Without knowing, it seems that I’ve internalised “Negaraku, tanah tumpahnya darahku.” (My motherland, the land where my blood spills). Some days I envy people who can get away.

    ⋆˙⟡☆ ˗ˏˋ ☆ ˎˊ˗  ☆⟡˙⋆

    Now, that begs the answer of the question I’ve increasingly received:

    how do you feel about it?

    There are important distinctions to how this question has been asked, and they all warrant different answers:

    ( 1 )

    How do you feel about moving back?

    When the past isn’t desirable, the thought of returning sounds scary…and perhaps insurmountable. But moving back actually just means moving along a cone spiral, doesn’t it? You’re somewhere close, as if nothing’s changed, but not quite.

    ( 2 )

    How do you feel about moving home?

    Tiring. I’ve got to clean up 20 years of my life!!! also moving-ish!!!! So I’ve got space for new life.

    ( 3 )

    How do you feel about Leaving?

    What else is there to feel but grief, gratitude, and guilt? I’m preparing a farewell. I will miss everyone.

    ⋆˙⟡☆ ˗ˏˋ ☆ ˎˊ˗  ☆⟡˙⋆

    Amidst all that, the question I’m asking myself is:

    how should I feel about moving forward?

    I’m terrified. To start thinking about my relationship with home, is to first start thinking about my relationship with my home country: Malaysia (not China, as most would joke…I think I can muster up a laugh). I feel so embarrassed that I’ve been to more UK cities than Malaysian ones. The other day I had my first cekodok and I couldn’t even spell it. When strangers label my kind as pendatang, any minute error feels like a tragedy. When strangers doubt my right to love, I learn to not feel like digging a hole and die.

    I’m excited. To be able to re-explore Malaysia, for she too has changed. To hibernate, and figure out what I want to do and what I’m able to do. To meet new people that are wiser than me, and old friends who have also lived lives between the distance we hold. I’ve been manufacturing excitement by watching Malaysia holiday vlogs on YouTube, small town videos and kia kia videos on Instagram. Believing that maybe this country loves me back.

    Fear and excitement have always been on both sides of the same coin. But actually, at the end of it all, I think I might be due for a long nap…