London, 5 December 2022

Today I took a long walk east of Bow, gazing enviously at the charming houses with even more charming gardens around Cyprus Place and the Regent’s Canal. How could we not find an adorable home like this? And could we ever, given our background and circumstances? Eventually, I grew tired of walking and rented a Santander bike to quicken my pace and see more along the way. I was intrigued by the worlds that unfolded around every corner and every twist, turn, and fork of the canal

Finally, I had seen enough, so I returned my bike and arrived at a waterway crossing, splitting southwards to Mile End, northwards towards Hackney, and westwards back to Victoria Park and home. I looked at the path home, familiar and promising a predictable, safe way to return as quickly as possible. After all, it was cold and already getting dark by 4 pm. But then I glanced to the right and saw a new stretch of the river, flanked by new houses, new gardens, and houseboats that could hold secrets, mysteries, and stories. Intuitively, I followed my curiosity, walking north, further away from the familiarity of home. Then it hit me, like an epiphany, that this was the essence of my life: I would forgo the comfort of the well-known, even if it seemed soothing and safe. I’d rather plunge into new, cold, and possibly darker waters, with the reward of feeling alive and inspired.

This is just a simple step, to walk a bit further, so I don’t think it is brave or anything special. It is more about the feeling, the sentiment I felt in this moment that resonates so much with my inner disposition.

Eventually, after about ten minutes of walking upstream, I recognized the area I was heading to and quickly hired another bike to get home fast and painlessly.

Since moving to London, this is probably the lowest point I have reached. Or was it Covid? Maybe it’s hard to compare, but emotionally, I feel really stranded here now. Winter has arrived, and it is not pretty — cold, wet, and dark. I am sitting at home dressed in six layers of clothing to preserve my body heat and save on electricity costs. Another tipping point was being robbed of my wallet last week while photoshooting with Margiela in busy, Christmassy Bond Street. All my credit cards were taken, used, and charged up to 20,000 pounds! The worst part is losing my permanent ID card, the symbol of my perseverance, and feeling vulnerable and abused. After hours on the phone with banks and card companies, the police had already closed the case due to lack of evidence. I just want some justice and peace of mind. And hopefully, all these charges will be refunded.

So my perception of the city, in the midst of the Christmas frenzy with its lights and glimmer, is suspicious, mean, and cold. I feel uneasy and paranoid now whenever I approach downtown or crowds. I am getting flashbacks of my my old life before moving here —my rooftop, lemon garden, sunshine, beach happiness — that seems like a lost dream now. Facebook memory displays don’t help either, just as much as Vivi’s visit to Hong Kong and the photos he shared. I wish I was there!

It is my own fate to get involved, make friends, and build a new circle, but I just don’t have the motivation right now. It just seems too draining. Another fight with Topo on Saturday night, two days ago, still lingers uncomfortably silent in the air, pushing me further to the edge, and the ledge seems dark and inviting, just like the unfamiliar path along the canal.

The fights are about nothing—“you said, I said, I want, you always…”—and end with us acting like strangers for a while, no one in the mood to talk or even act normal. I am so sick of this and questioning my social abilities in partnerships. AHHHHHHHRRRGGGGGG.

One good thing is happening though, one I actively pursued that got me out of my comfort zone and pushed me to interact with humans: the acting course. People are mostly nice, friendly, interesting, and open. I have three more classes left, and maybe I will exchange contacts with someone by the end of the course. Last time, we had to act for the first time and interpret a given dialogue with our own tone, story, and characters. I channeled all my moody gloom and darkness from my private misery, just a day after the wallet incident, and delivered, apparently, a very believable and strong emo dialogue with my acting partner. When the coach asked how it felt, I said, “It felt natural.” Hmm.