Twin flames Japan travelogue: A love letter V

(Originally written in Chinese here, below is the translation by ChatGPT with some tweaks by me.)

 

The last post was actually fitting as the concluding one, but I still have this set of photos to share 💅 I've already written about most of what I wanted to address though, so I'll keep this one short.

Since this is a series about us, it makes sense to wrap it up by bringing the focus back to us.

It seems that I've always been grateful to the universe/fate for bringing us together in the first place, and everything that followed I took for granted. When two eccentric souls meet, mutual selection is only inevitable, right? Understanding and cherishing each other is the natural path for twin flames, isn't it?

So I’ve never formally thanked you from the bottom of my heart.

But I should.

Each change in an independent individual, in fact, presents a new encounter, a new choice.

Closeness needs to be nurtured; long-distance bonds can easily weaken, especially for someone like me who doesn't often ask how things are going, and can go months without checking in.

Thank you for continuing to choose me over the past 18 years.

I wonder, if I had been more proactive over the years, would I have missed out on fewer of the milestones in your life?

Regrets may have come late, but that's alright; we still have tomorrow.

You've always known this, that I will always be here for you.

Twin flames Japan travelogue: A love letter IV

(Originally written in Chinese here, below is the translation by ChatGPT with some tweaks by me.)

Before this trip, it had been 7.5 years since our last reunion. Although we didn't stay in constant touch during this time, we always had deep conversations whenever I faced a crisis. I also kept up with your inner journey through your writings. As you described, our life directions follow the same main axis, and our perspectives and emotional journeys are so similar that I often feel too lazy even to like your posts after reading them. For this trip, I set myself only one task: to listen and see you without projecting myself, and even to erase the preconceived notion that we are twin flames. I didn't expect to gain new realizations, initially due to the arrogance of believing my current stability was solid, and secondly, because I assumed most discussions would simply reiterate those I'd already had with Kit or others, making new insights unlikely. As anticipated, many times during our conversations, it did feel as if I was collaborating with another version of myself—using different entry points to organize and articulate insights that hadn't been fully verbalized before. We took turns elaborating, clarifying, questioning each other, delving deeper, and repeatedly confirming our understandings.

Yet I didn't anticipate that these seemingly familiar exchanges would unexpectedly trigger intense shadow work within me, which has been ongoing for a month.

"I now find my zen and stability dull and unexciting, and craving challenges instead." —you were the one who made this statement, why was I the one hit by comets? It seems every time I dared feel a little smug, the universe immediately threw a pop quiz my way.

Now, with this blaze, I finally realize which conversation sparked the initial flame.

It was when you mentioned a ridiculous past deed of mine. The event itself, and the motivations and actions of those involved, were not important. What mattered was that, at that moment, I captured an extremely subtle emotion deep underneath. Though fleeting, it set off a chain reaction and after the trip, wave after wave of reflections were stirred up, some seemingly unrelated, leaving me dizzy with confusion. Eventually, I realized these were different facets of the same thing, all calling for my attention.

It wanted me to confront the surge of emotions that arose whenever I felt wronged or misunderstood—the pressing need to clarify the truth and validate myself—and to comprehend what it truly compelled me to unravel and understand at the core.

In the past, despite my keen interest in self-awareness, there was a high probability I wouldn't notice it. Even if I did, I wouldn't delve deep into it, because I could brush it off, dismissing it as mere survival instinct.

This emotion and its various manifestations first emerged in my interactions with caregivers during my youth, and later intensified in interactions with authority figures and peers within the school community. Over time, I came to realize that not everyone could be convinced to believe in me, and eventually reserved the privilege to evoke this vulnerability solely for those in my inner circle. For nearly two-thirds of my life, in attempts to escape such feelings of frustration and helplessness, I unknowingly conformed to others' expectations, closing myself off and foregoing many opportunities. In doing so, I at least felt deserving of any criticism leveled against me. Were it not for meeting you and Kit, who have consistently guided me and prevented me from losing my way, I might have long been adrift without direction.

The longing for my authentic self to be seen, even if by only a few, reveals that I am still seeking external affirmation—meaning, I am still on a journey toward self-sustenance, striving to wholeheartedly embrace and genuinely love my own existence.

Realizing this, I was plunged into immense panic.

The conflict between divinity, humanity, and animality, as discussed in the previous post, contradicts the state of unity and profound love I often attain through spiritual practice. Suddenly, I felt lost and unsure of what to do with myself. The past month seemed to blend with the aftermath of my mushroom trip, plunging me back into confronting my deepest fears after breaking through the dimensional barrier back then.

My deepest fear, surprisingly, isn't any form of death.

It was loneliness.

It sounds absurd to have experienced ego death and oneness only to discover that I fear loneliness the most. Recognizing that everything is my creation—I orchestrated this stage of life, weaving relationships between fragments of myself. Even nothingness is a part of me; all existence and non-existence are facets of the play I directed and participated in, after dividing myself into countless fragments.

If these limitations are intrinsic to the universe's creation of this character and script, designed as the ultimate escape from loneliness, what freedom am I still striving to achieve?

You define freedom as the absence of discrepancy between the ideal and reality.

I define freedom as having a choice.

But what if granting oneself the illusion of choice, thereby setting off a ceaseless pursuit of "closing the gap between ideal and reality," is the most profound act of mercy to evade confronting this fear head-on?

Is my greatest fear, fear itself?

As I write this, I'm at a loss whether to laugh or cry. See, my storytelling brain, ever enthusiastic, has led me into a labyrinth with no way out, spinning its own intricate web.

In reflecting on various points discussed during our trip, one recurring theme explored the reconciling with recurring emotions from the past. We wondered if that the reconciliation will:

A. Leave an indelible impression through our brutal dissection of every detail, repeated analyses of the connections between them, because the painstaking lessons tend to be deeply etched and unforgettable; or 

B. Gradually fade away through complete embrace and acceptance, because lessons already learned need not be remembered.

I can't be certain, but if I were to guess, reconciliation through logical rationalization tends toward A, while reconciliation guided by empathy and love leans toward B.

Based on my own experience, when reconciliation occurred like described in A, life has persistently presented me similar challenges for reaffirmation.

Similarly, is the fear of loneliness, and even fear itself, rooted in the absence of a constant awareness that 'my existence itself is love'?

So I guess to confront and embrace this deepest fear, I must continue to learn the art of surrender, convincing myself that hope endures eternally.

At the core of every desire lies love; beneath the layers of fear flows life, and life is love.

Love is the conscious experience of living in the present moment, unconditionally allowing and accepting both external and internal occurrences, loving oneself as is, not as one wishes to be.

Each circumstance reflects aspects of myself—how others perceive me, how I perceive myself, and how I view others—all together compose my entirety.

The whole does not rely on others for salvation, the liberated does not seek to rescue others.

And I shall meet you, with a soul that is whole and liberated.

Twin flames Japan travelogue: A love letter III

(Originally written in Chinese here, below is the translation by ChatGPT with some tweaks by me.)

 

I shall write about writing.

The translations of the previous two posts on IG were inadequate, so I turned to ChatGPT and made manual corrections to the inaccuracies before publishing the translations here. Kit cringed a little reading the first post, noting that openly expressing such intricate sentiments is unusual, and though he knew I am far from normal, he wasn't entirely sure why I wanted to share it publicly. Upon reading the second post, he immediately understood and told me he was happy for and proud of me.

Being seen, for me, is a profound gift.

Full text HERE.

On our last night in Japan, you advised me not to finish the fries I had ordered, "not good for health," you said. I found that comment strange and finished the fries anyway. The next day my throat started hurting, and I wondered if it might have been because of the fries. However, the pain persisted for a week after I returned to the States. It wasn't COVID, and I had no other cold symptoms. I suspected it was a strep infection but didn't seek medical help.

As I embarked on a spiritual journey, I learned that physical symptoms often indicate spiritual lessons I need to address. This had happened several times before, where my symptoms disappeared after resolving the corresponding emotional or spiritual issue. Even when there were physical causes and I took corresponding physical measures (while not ruling out potential placebo effects), the discomfort always seemed to resolve shortly after some inner release—usually within a few hours. I believe nothing in life is coincidental.

So, I googled the spiritual meaning of a sore throat and reflected on the theme my soul wanted me to focus on. As I published the first part of this series, my throat pain went away.

...but my ears had become clogged, and sounds became muffled, as if I was underwater.

I quickly realized that I had more inner work to do, and it was related to unresolved emotions from the past. My ear remained clogged for over a week without getting any better, and my intuition told me that reaching out to you directly might lead to a breakthrough or initiate a domino effect.

We talked about how some parts of my writing might not have presented objective reality with precision or in its entirety. You mentioned that you, too, have encountered occasions where the subjects in your writings felt that your perception of reality didn't completely match theirs. You assured me that you didn't mind the parts of my writing that lacked clarity and didn't find them important. I then confessed a buried fear of mine: that in interactions with others, my perception of reality might be completely off from theirs. If they didn't correct me—whether to protect me or to benefit from the misunderstanding—I would see it as rejection or mockery. You noted that I seemed to be in a different state from when I was in Japan, perhaps even regressing a little. I admitted that such fluctuations have been happening over the past few years.

As I write this, I realize 'fluctuation' isn't quite the right term. Similarly, terms like 'higher self' and 'lower self' are common in New Age spirituality, but everything exists equally, just with different attributes. A more accurate description of my experience might be that spiritual practices have awakened my divinity, yet this divinity feels disconnected from my humanity and animal nature. I am myself, yet I am not; I want to be me, yet I don't; I yearn to indulge, yet also to transcend. What I truly seek is the ability to choose, akin to the concept of 'timshel' from East of Eden, which I've tattooed onto my arm. Despite everything, I'm still engaged in the same human game, and starting afresh with all that I've accumulated isn't possible. To harmonize and elevate my old self with these newly awakened aspects, continuous integration is essential. Integration has proven to be a significant challenge, initially quite painful, and remains an ongoing process.

Translating the previous two parts into English made me realize how living in the U.S. for over a decade and primarily discussing or reading about inner explorations in English have influenced my expression in Chinese. One significant difference is English's use of tenses, clearly distinguishing between past and present, whereas in Chinese, without specifying the time frame, it can easily confuse the receiver. I noticed this while talking to you in Japan; I often had to backtrack to clarify which phase I was referring to. Especially since 'integration' involves both the past and present interwoven, and the concept of self is so elusive, the more I elaborate, the more incoherent it becomes—as if my intellect is trying to logically weave a messy narrative. If my expressive skills don't keep pace with my storytelling intellect, the narrative becomes increasingly muddled and strays from the truth. This challenge intensifies when it involves others. Writing inherently reflects a singular perspective, and when writing publicly, certain details known to us may be unknown to others; some aspects might be emphasized, while others glossed over—leading to varied interpretations. For instance, 'once' should have been clarified as 'just once.' You mentioned its insignificance, but I strive for fairness in portraying the subjects of my writing.

Religious scriptures encounter similar challenges. From the outset, attempting to describe life's vast mysteries using humanity's limited logical language is inherently inadequate. During translation, context can be lost or content distorted. Readers often impose narrow interpretations, propagating one-sided analyses that further misconstrue the original message. Individuals on the receiving end of such propagation then interpret these messages according to their own perspectives, often distorting the scriptures' original meanings beyond recognition. Hence spirituality is not a religion. Spiritual awakening necessitates direct or indirect initiation by an enlightened figure (guru). Chanting demands precise pronunciation, while sadhana must adhere strictly to every step, breathing method, and body posture. Consequently, the path of spiritual practice through intellectual reasoning (jnana marga) is deemed the most time-consuming and prone to entanglements. My own quantum leap occurred after bypassing the snares of intellectual reasoning.

It's no wonder I haven't written much in recent years. I wouldn't be tormenting myself  without attempting integration through writing 😂

Yet, possessing a foundation in writing, it feels wasteful to leave it idle. Reviving and refining it is enjoyable, with much yet to learn.

In my earliest days, I had a penchant for writing in a convoluted and obscure manner. Back then, my fragmented yet intense emotions needed an outlet. Yearning to vent without inviting public scrutiny, I crafted my words like puzzles with hidden codes. Looking back at my old writings, I can roughly trace each state of mind at the time I wrote each piece, though few still require some deciphering. It's remarkable how you managed to grasp most of it back then; it feels almost miraculous.

I now relish a perspective on life where surprises feel natural, and the natural evokes surprise.

Balancing candid expression with respect for my subjects is a delicate art I strive to master. Yet, ensuring every reader interprets my meticulously chosen words and sentences in the same light is less crucial than ensuring my intended audience, including my future self, comprehends and connects with my writing. Fairness, after all, is illusory; reality and perceptions are my projections, as are you all.

Being accepted by you all for who I am is what gives me the liberty to set aside my concerns and simply have fun.

My ears had been blocked for nearly ten days. On Saturday night, I explained my recent spiritual practices and integration to my mother in the simplest terms possible, doing my best to make it understandable. I'm unsure if she fully grasped it, but afterward, one side of my ears suddenly cleared.

Early Sunday, after completing my two-hour sadhana, both sides of my ears cleared.

Level cleared— cue the confetti.

Blogger compressed the image resolution so much, yikes.

Twin flames Japan travelogue: A love letter II

(Originally written in Chinese here, below is the translation by ChatGPT with some tweaks by me.)

 

While the previous post was written with only you and myself in mind, the feedback from others was exactly as I expected 🙂 The post is public after all, so I shall respond to some of the commentary I received, firstly by addressing what the broccoli twin flames are, so my mother doesn't stay confused. When we were in Japan, I overheard her whispering to my aunt (her elder sister), "can't tell which one is her husband," and after reading my last post, we revisited a familiar conversation we've had many times over the years:

"So, there's a mutual love between you two?"

Hahahaha, absolutely, always has been!

"The same goes for you and Kit?"

Yes!

"So what sets it apart?"

What do you think love is? (I counter magic with magic 🧙)

"How did someone as rule-abiding as me give birth to such an oddball?" (her CPU was clearly overloaded 😂😂😂）

About 18 years ago, I posted an article by Zita Law on my blog discussing soulmates. Zita Law suggested that everyone can have multiple soulmates, and that these relationships aren't limited to romantic partners. So, in the early days, we used the term soulmates to refer to each other. However, when Kit entered my life, we started using the term 'soul twins' for distinction's sake. Later, I stumbled upon the concept of twin flames vs soulmates, and as I read it, I was struck to find the descriptions fitting about you and Kit to me. Here's the gist:

To experience itself, the source of existence split into many souls; each soul split again, and again, until the final split formed two souls, one yin and one yang, embodied in different vessels— these are twin flames. Soulmates come from earlier splits; we reincarnate with these souls through multiple lifetimes, usually having deep innate bonds. Through connection and sharing with soulmates, we learn many lessons. Soulmates can be partners, friends, or family members; providing comfort, solace, and peace; promoting growth, understanding, and mutual respect. Twin flames, however, are like mirrors, magnifying both your light and darkness. This intense connection and competition reflect personal fears, challenging us to face our deepest insecurities, opening all unresolved issues and emotional wounds, pushing you to further healing, and serving as powerful catalysts for personal development and transformation. Twin flames often have a strong telepathic connection, with the relationship characterized by its turbulent nature, driving both towards self-awareness and evolution.

Telepathy should be commonplace by now, but every occurrence still astounds two scientifically-minded individuals who don't regularly keep in touch. It would have been difficult to believe if we hadn't experienced it ourselves. Perhaps, as we become less absorbed in internal turmoil and more attuned to life's subtleties, our awareness of synchronicity sharpens. For instance, before our trip to Japan, you had stayed in the same hostel in Vietnam for several days without incident. Suddenly, I mentioned bedbugs to you, and the next morning I woke up with an unusual allergic reaction—tiny bumps and rashes—on my face. It was also the same time you sent me a video of a bedbug you had found on your bed, which turned out to be the culprit behind your bitten face.

Dang it, now I know who to blame for any unexplainable physical or emotional hiccups I experience from now on. Please don't drag me down. 🙃

After I published the previous post on our long-neglected dual-authors Chinese blog, I took the opportunity to scroll through our earliest exchanges, and was somewhat surprised to discover that our dynamics was apparent right from the start:

"Two like-minded individuals, who should have been besties that hit it off instantly, instead found the sparks not quite as expected when they collided. Because we’re too similar, we need the same kind of nourishment, thus falling into an invisible competition and rivalry... is that it? Subconsciously keeping score of who is ahead, as if falling behind means losing one's sense of self—I really hate this. I am normally overly calm, but when provoked by someone close, I find myself losing self-control, drawn into meaningless and covert conflicts. While you understood this truth earlier, and I've come to understand it more deeply, what now? What is there to be upset or dissatisfied about? Why do we feel the need to question and undermine each other? Clearly provoked, we puff up with stiff pride, appearing even more ugly and childish...” written by you on Nov 28, 2008.

Mind elaborating? What on earth were we competing over when we were younger? 🙃

The day these photos were taken was my 33rd birthday. Sadhguru once remarked that life before 33 is a period of accumulating strength. Taking life seriously up to this point can unleash one's potential explosively and exponentially thereafter. Our journey together has seen countless transformations, each of us growing individually as our relationship evolved from love-hate to what it is today. Step by step, we've crafted a rich and fulfilling life that once seemed beyond our wildest dreams. The universe has truly blessed us.

The key we once stubbornly withheld from each other, I think we unknowingly already have given it up— at least I have. I no longer fear ridicule, misunderstanding, neglect, rejection, disdain, or disapproval, whether from those I cherish or onlookers. I now freely express my love and the importance of certain individuals in my life, even proclaiming it publicly, as I do with this series. Because I finally remember that I am the embodiment of love with infinite capacity to give, akin to the Divine love described in the Bible, partly because of the confidence you've always instilled in me since the early days when I doubted the world.

As the title suggests, this is indeed a love letter— to you, to myself, and to life.

____________

ps: Mother asked me how I maintained my Chinese writing skills after living in the United States for over a decade. I attribute it to my knack for mimicry and a lifelong exposure to extensive reading since childhood. I've absorbed bits of essence from various sources, pondered them, and refined them into my own writing style. Isn't the creation of beauty in life much the same? 🙂

Twin flames Japan travelogue: A love letter I

(Originally written in Chinese here, below is the translation by ChatGPT with some tweaks by me.)

I've decided to dedicate this Instagram post, along with the upcoming ones featuring you about my trip to Japan, to us. Twin flames are mirror souls, so sharing our exchanges is like publishing a Q&A with myself. Describing our bond is like documenting the magnetic push and pull between two closely connected fragments of the universe. Whether or not I can fill these posts with meaningful content, writing about you is writing about myself, and I am worth writing about. (?)

The idea of resuming writing in Chinese to document this reunion first crossed my mind when we planned our trip. However, due to a lack of desire to share and having written little in Chinese over the past ten years, I was too lazy to give it much thought. But after the trip ended, waves of vivid visuals and leaping words started to emerge, urging me to sort and organize them, chattering away like when you're well-rested.

To begin writing is always the hardest amidst an ocean of ideas and emotions. Just as autopsies start from the outermost layers, my analysis will begin with our flesh suits.

I ought to write candidly, unconcerned whether you delve deeply into this—better if it makes you scream. Do you think you're the only sadist here seeking enjoyment in taunting others? Think again 😏 

A few days ago, I had dinner with our mutual university friends who are still in Madison. They expressed surprise, saying that if you were to walk past them now, they wouldn't recognize you at first glance. Strangely, this reminded me of something paradoxical I said 17 years ago:

"This is my favorite one, among all the faces of others I've ever seen."

There's always been a bit of Narcissus in me. In my teenage years, I would hide in my room, admiring my reflection in the mirror, sometimes for over an hour. In Form 4 (age 16), I came across someone's autograph book—though I can't remember whose—and, possibly possessed by a spirit, pointed at the photo of you that you had attached and made that declaration to Minyi. At the time, my favorite segment of the Taiwanese singing competition "Super Star Avenue" was whenever judge Zhang Yu gave his commentary because some of his facial features resembled yours a little.

The liking I spoke of wasn't a preference rooted in animalistic instincts or conditioned by societal beauty standards. I just didn't have a better way to describe the peculiar sense of our fated connection that I couldn't quite place at the time: it was as if my soul had already recognized the twin energy in you before my conscious intellect caught up.

Going slightly off-topic, we had actually met several times in childhood before recognizing each other as soul twins.

The first time I saw you was in the elementary school library, where I knew you as the elder brother of my classmate.

When I was in 5th grade (age 10), I fell and scraped my palms on the asphalt pavement as I was walking out of the school gate. While still on the ground, I saw you and a group of classmates looking at me and walking past cold-bloodedly.

Also in 5th grade, I first saw your neat and elegant handwriting in your sister’s autograph book. You wrote that unlike the other classmates who encouraged your sister to pursue her crush, I was the one worth befriending because I urged her to snap out of that obsession. (Little did you know that a year later, this boy would become my first puppy love sweetheart 🤣 but I swear I was genuine when I gave that advice, I wasn’t scheming.)

In Form 1 (age 13), after I attended the Mathematics Club recruitment event where you were president, I must have expressed my admiration for you to someone, as gossip that I was your fan soon spread like wildfire. Two of your classmates were so incredulous that they came to the afternoon session (where classes for junior high students were held), knocked on the door, and told the teacher they had something to discuss with me, just to see for themselves whether my sanity was intact. They seemed to leave without a conclusion after scrutinizing me.

In Form 3 (age 15), I joined the school debate team, and our friendship officially began. Rumors promoted (?) my status to your sister’s sister-in-law, and this fake news followed me all the way through graduation, inexplicably ruining my romantic prospects for a few years. Thanks a lot for that! ❤️

Alright, let's get back to the topic.

For the past two decades, we have both been gradually moving closer to our ideal appearances. You have had more aspects to reconcile in this pursuit, so naturally, you have put in more effort, resulting in more noticeable changes than I have. Your current state is no doubt the best you've been. Yet, the truth is, since I have always seen you as my equal, I have always liked your appearance at every stage, despite occasionally suggesting you align more with societal aesthetic standards on features you were troubled by. It seems I never told you this. After all, regardless of the pursuit of a so-called perfect self, you did still need to showcase your physical attractiveness in search of suitors. Even if I had told you in the past, you wouldn’t have believed me anyway.

My own changes in physical appearance over the past almost 20 years include:

• In college, out of curiosity, I tried breast size-enhancing cookies for a while.
• During my gap year after college, I started working out out of sheer boredom.
• During my Ph.D. studies, one day I suddenly filled the inner sides of my arms with tattoos, later got a navel piercing, and started wearing a corset daily.
• In 2019, a cancerous tumor was found in my right breast. The following chemotherapy ended my fitness and corset routine. I decisively had both breasts removed, resulting in a concave chest and discovering I had mild pectus excavatum, then underwent four rounds of fat grafting procedures for reconstruction (wrote about this here).
• Embarking on a spiritual journey, I began to connect with my body and took up rock climbing, which I continue to this day.
• In 2020, having extra money to spend, I corrected my mild overbite through teeth aligners and started getting cosmetic injectables, which I continue to this day.

Some of your comments about my appearance over the years:

• On the first day of our reunion at INTI, you said my short hair in high school might have highlighted my delicate facial features more.
• On the first day of our reunion in the US, you said my eyes looked more cat-like than you remembered or portrayed in my photos.
• I can’t recall any comments when you photographed me in lingerie and swimwear during your last year in the US.
• When I sent you a photo of my pseudo-doppelganger taken by Alex, complaining about how my eyes weren’t as dead as hers, you replied that my eyes look exactly the same without colored contacts.
• When I sent you a selfie of me and Dom taken at a swingers' party, you said I was more good-looking than Dom was.
• On the first night of this Japan trip, after I removed all makeup, I asked if you could tell what I had done to my face. You said I still looked the same.

My suspicion is that you never really paid much attention to my face after all.

One night, we were discussing outfits for the next day when you asked if I had a white undershirt. I responded that I could wear a white bra, and that would 'build skyscrapers from the ground up'.

Later, you mentioned how you were momentarily stunned when I said that, as if forgetting that I am now flat-chested, as if my entire cancer journey never fully registered in your memory. I explained that I had no identity attachment to my old body, which is why I decided on a bilateral mastectomy almost immediately, despite the doctor's repeated attempts to dissuade me. In fact, the night after the surgery, I dreamt that I was already flat-chested. You wondered whether this rapid adaptation in self-perception was a form of overcompensation, reflecting how much I actually cared.

I shared with you that when I used to look at my old body in the mirror, it didn't feel like 'me'.

"What did you feel then?"

Aroused.

HAHAHAHAHAHA

"Guess what, once and just that once I took a gym selfie, and looking at the photo I thought, 'I could fuck that'. "

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHA

Does this mean we aren't that far out on the asexual end of the spectrum, or has our (my?) narcissism reached new heights? Let's save this discussion for a future post. 🤣

During our trip, whenever you occasionally complained about certain physical attributes that bothered you, I would half-jokingly ask if you were still pursuing ideals about those attributes.

You mentioned how I still nitpick over photos that don't show my best looks, claiming I haven't fully given up on maintaining or improving my physical appearance. I responded that I edit photos mostly because I have a knack for it and enjoy the process, not because I need to appear 'perfect' on social media. Otherwise, I wouldn't have allowed Kit and Kylie to post all those unflattering, unedited photos of me. As for cosmetic procedures, I have the money, and I want to spend it. If I were to retreat permanently to the mountains and pursue spirituality seriously, who would care whether my appearance met worldly aesthetics? The body is a vessel for experiencing the physical world, and as long as I'm in this material realm, I'll continue playing its game.

Am I in denial about how much I care? I can't definitively say no. As long as I have this body, I'm happy to succumb to its innate vanity.

I do really like my body a lot.

The night we shared a room in Nikko, you asked to pause our ongoing conversation so you could quickly go to the bathroom to change. I said I didn't mind seeing others naked or being seen naked myself; I only avoided it because others might mind. You said you felt the same (though we still turned our backs to each other out of habit when we changed). While in Nikko, we also discussed how I gave up on soaking in hot springs, not because I lacked interest, but because I thought my tattoos would deny me entry. You then went to the tourist information center and found options for us to go. I was surprised by your gesture, given that you had earlier said you weren't willing to pay money to get boiled.

"How do you envision the hot spring experience?"

Us chatting away while soaking in it together, I said.

We ended up giving it a pass because all the options were too far. It’s a pity, as I have a subtle longing to see you and be seen around you, bare-bodied and in our entirety. Later, on our last night in Tokyo, I showed you my mastectomy scars—I had shown them to multiple people in my close circle and still found my nippleless chest fascinating. Now, as I write this, I realize that this behavior is perhaps the most tangible manifestation of wanting to be seen. This desire is not limited to the soul, because just as all the various decisions made on this body are me, this body is me, it wants to be seen.

That night in Nikko when you were fussing with your face in front of the mirror, I leaned against the bathroom door and asked, hey, the things that used to bother you— have you made peace with them now?

"For sure I've reconciled with them a lot more now compared to before, but not yet to the point of not minding them at all," you answered.

I found it very bizarre how you still willingly let these societal aesthetic norms, rooted in mechanisms of species propagation, confine you.

Because this flesh suit of yours, as the vessel of your life, is one of the most beautiful in my eyes.

____________

Ps: As I was finishing up preparations for this post to be published, I noticed that you had just shared the photos and videos from teamLab Borderless as well. After all these years of countless instances of synchronicity between us, I am still amazed by how our telepathy unfolds.

Six Flags Great America 2021

August 2021. Second visit on the same week, with a different crew.

 

Dr Evermor's Forevertron Park

July 12, 2021

Very thankful that we got to visit the largest scrap metal sculpture in the world with Soren, Kelsey, John, Amelia the other day. Dr Evermor RIP was a friend and partner of Alex Jordan RIP (creator of House on the Rock); they had a falling out, and that was when Dr Evermor started building Forevertron. Dr Evermor's wife Lady Eleanor and their daughter Tya were on site that day, Tya showed us how to make a hat of tin foil and how to "zap people who aren't having a good time" with the Magnetic Laser Love Gun 😂 The visit reignited my love for steampunk ❤️ being able to walk into the materialized imaginative world of a fantastic mind was such a magical luxury ✨

1 day in New York; Van Gogh Exhibit

Jun 16, 2021. The Immersive Van Gogh Exhibit New York

Bristol Renaissance Faire

 

August 30, 2021

Short stay in California

I love doing nice things for my close friends. Like took a 7-hour flight (1 stop) to attend her wedding reception dinner, spent the night in her hotel suite, hung out at her apartment in LA, then another 7-hour flight back home. I want to plan a longer visit next time so we can spend more time together 😘 and definitely have to remember to take photos of just us together next time!