So strange, so uncomfortable.

More flowers.

I have to admit - I'm at a strange and curious crossroads in my life. I am unsure and I'm just okay. Battles with myself are wearing me down a bit and I'm losing more sleep than expected. I mean I can claim I feel normal, I look normal, but damn transitions and changes are tough on me, tougher than expected.

The battle that I speak of is the battle to stay true to myself. To let my goodness shine, to allow it to surface at its fullest capacity.

It will feel good when the challenge is overcome, but fuck when will that moment be?

Someone the other day told me it's almost been a year since I've returned. Oh jesus it has.

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How exhausted I feel. Be present.

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My uncles and aunts like to give me talks. They love giving me advice. I love listening and talking to them so I don't mind. I know it makes them feel good. One uncle in particular prefaces his talks with me with "I'm not lecturing you" although it's always a lecture. Although I may make faces and resist, I enjoy his talks. "It's because I care," he says in frustration.

My mom has 2 sisters and 4 brothers. I like to think that as the first grandchild I felt all of their love. They all loved me. They all carried me and played with me. It was a time when our family was naive, many members still single, still going through high school first loves, still beginning their life in the land of opportunity. They all loved me. They all tell me "we all used to carry you and care for you" I can only imagine it. In that little white house in the ethnoburb of Monterey Park when we were under one roof - the love that was contained - it's inside me and still is.

I can say that my love is contained in seams. You don't know this unless you are in a house of seamstresses, but clothing and materials come in these large cardboard boxes. If you fold the boxes correctly they make great desks for the materials and pieces of clothing. The go green movement should be a movement of necessity. Basically my family has been "going green" since 1980 (bitches). Anyways, one time I sat on the box since I though it was strong and I fell through into them. The laughter of Vietnamese women in my family was booming. I felt embarrassed but imagine their laughter with me if you will. It was authentic, a moment that cannot be replicated because I am no longer that little person that can fall through boxes.

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The goodness of a person is always there. Sometimes I get consumed by other things but the goodness is what I want to bring to the surface.