Chun Ye
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literary translator
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A little stilted, I know. Like: 🙀
But there’s a whole range of meanings. It’s very different from the other Chinese-American chick I read, who was basically trying to forget that she was a yellow-face so she could Americanize and date Harry Styles, the most American boy that there is, right. Chunnie (Hey, I call Jung, Carly) really looks at the issue of language and culture and how peoples pain plays out in her particular national community and its own experience of racism, loss, and other things.
But one of those other things is definitely sex and family life. At first I wasn’t sure what to say about it at all, because despite reading some poetry and some romances, I’m still kinda the guy who disappears beyond some volume of the Asian mystics, and doesn’t want to get married—you know, hurt somebody, turn your life into a wreck, that sort of thing. Or, as (Improbable Name Man) said, (I don’t know, “The lunatic is on the grass”, probably).
And this is not that. It would probably take someone with more experience of sex and relationships to really have a comparable (got to keep the loonies on the path, LOL) moment, but, I don’t know.
I know what it isn’t.
…. My pattern isn’t really to act out, even though I find things funny, you know. I haven’t had a problem yet—“I’m good at selling people things they don’t need!” “That just makes it worse—you can see that, right?” (The Good Place)—when I have to politely suggest to people that they get in debt for my fav corporation, (bossman’s lol), now I can’t help but be reminded of the girl who got hijacked by the subconscious and accidentally wrote, “May Chairman Mao live zero years” instead of “May Chairman Mao live ten thousand years.”….. lol, whatever. At least they can’t beat me or starve my imaginary children. (My imaginary children eat very well. And they live inside my mind.) hashtag getting a different job lol….
But I also don’t believe in thrashing, which is half of what these people sit around worrying about, you know.… (mehr)