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accounts from a high school boy | Olivia Liu (11)

still it continues:

the breathless lamp

the not-so-empty, not-so-warm anymore /cha/chai/o-cha/tra/shay/

tea/ that

had lost its fragrance ever since you taught me algebra.


still it continues:

the dying computer

the lost eraser

the 97th percentile 

the 8th place purgatory i can’t ever breach.


still it continues;

all the /a yi/aunty/ajummas/ 

/rolling jiao zi/

/frying gulab jamun/

/stirring samgyetang/

tell me i am a promising young man

but have you seen me in the

MIRROR

when i fought with my mother?

will you still dare to call me /asaadhaaran/you xiu/xuat chung/

impressive/

when you see that i am just a 

boy living within a dream

you created for me?


still it continues;

behind me stand four hundred thousand children -

they have descended from your father’s father

and the father before him.

my little sister looks up to me,

our last name is asian;

i have lost our heritage to paper and text screens

yet this genre of hell remains unseen. 


but still it continues…

still it continues…

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