awkward pauses, ducking from someone’s line of vision, treading lightly or squeezing to make way. in between conversations made with people who lives in my head. indulging my eyes through patterns in the carpet, ceiling, wall—I have learned to live.
learned to content myself in quietly existing. in being pliant to your expectations. surprising you with my witty, sociable self. even in moments of inner diaspora, I’ve learned to navigate the world outside of me and discovered that I can be kind to strangers and non-humans. that I can be more patient and stretch my skin several layers deep to hurt for them again and again. by paying attention, I realized how easily I fall for the same person over and over again, which isn’t martyrdom. just out of control and scary but unimportant.
in between moments of sucking air back into my lungs, I couldn’t help but embrace the strange charm of mystery and accept that not everything has to be learned. I existed. I exist. that’s enough. which is why I may or may not always belong to a name (Jan Angelique Dalisay), a demographic (millennial), a race (Asian). sometimes, I may just be an amalgamation of suffering, defiance, fears, failure, daydreams, poetry, nonfiction. most especially, vulnerability.
I continue to multiply, even when I don’t see it. which is probably why it’s taxing to find definitive answers for, Who are you? What is this blog about? Why should I read your work? yet, this very question of Why is closing all the in-between’s in one circle. Read: learn who I am. perhaps, I’m very much just like you. or not, and that’s okay, too. 😉