Rants from a Kong Qweer

I’ve got your back

A good way to die would be to infect an unknown, rare disease
Letting your body leave its mark on medical records and gruesome graphical Facebook articles
But it’s more important to contract one that is special enough

Have you ever taken the time to take off your friend’s glasses and ask if they’re struggling to see through you?
No. We even sell glasses as fashionable items, as drugs to patients of Myopia.
Because a disease is prominent enough we are expected to carry it without the love of others.
Because a disease is prominent enough it is safe to assume that it will not consume you.
Because a disease is prominent enough people could tell you that you will be able to go through this shit alone, intelligently pushing the loaded baggage away.
Because a disease is prominent enough nobody sees anything wrong with having tons of luggage rotating cluelessly on the endless belt hoping that someone would pick them up hoping that they could satisfy others with what’s inside hoping that they’ll belong.

I saw them desperately trying to exhale the black holes out of their bodies
So they could join the circle again
A circle still floating, trying to find some common ground discussing about universities, horoscopes, failed relationships.
They knew they could blend into any circle they wanted, as usual
But tonight they were drawn to sharp edges and angles and slopes and puffs of vanishing smoke
Octagon. Nonagon. Decagon. Dodecagon. Add more edges do some exercise think positive you need something new in your life now pour in more the more edges you have the better you’re doing but before you know it the circle comes to an end again you are back where you’ve started so could you please just leave them alone?

You know that’s a lie right? 
Don’t even ask if they’re okay just stare straight into their eyes
Let them swear at you. Let them shove you. Let them scream at you. Surrender.
They wouldn’t do this to you if they could see another way out.
Continuously reassure them tell them you’re staying, you’re staying no matter what and a broken vase doesn’t have to glued together again to restore its beauty because their shattered pieces are just as good
Push their head against your chest because moist and slime on your shirt is temporary and if you do this right this state shall pass too

Spend a minute staring at just one word, and its meaning will be lost completely.
They texted me the next day apologizing, promising that they’ve recovered now
I couldn’t help but question, if they felt compelled to put on a cloak in front of me
Or if they wanted to earn enough quota of normality so they could run away from their feelings again in case of emergency

I want you to know that a tablecloth is the most useless garment of human history.
Of course you have edges, of course assholes would scratch on your perfectly refined surface, of course sometimes ants crawl over you
And of course the rice stuck on you could be washed away.
You are a table. You are my springboard of ideas, you support all the authors of narratives, all the occasional naps, storing essentials for me never doubting that I’d not come back.
A table could function, even if it’s not in a fine state, even if it’s naked.



If only I knew how to say “FUCK THIS” when I was younger
I wouldn’t have to sit in front of the TV for hours wishing that Barney the dinosaur would just—DIE
Wishing that professor panda would tear off his fake mustache and perhaps ask how my day was going, say anything other than Chinese idioms
Wishing that the kangaroo with glasses would stop giving me awkward stares during those short pauses where it expects me to magically multiply my intelligence
Wishing that I could find the other episodes of Pokemon my brother was hiding
Wishing that Thomas the train and the Teletubbies would be released from the locked shelf, make their weird noises, turn off the switch in my brain just for a little while
Wishing that the number “1” button on the TV remote wasn’t so out of reach—wishing for permission to have dinner at my neighbor’s place every night so I could at least enjoy one full TVB drama series
Wishing for the Monkey King to take me with him to the West because I’d rather fight with monsters on the field and not in my head

If only I knew how to say “FUCK THIS” when I was younger
I wouldn’t have to sit in the corner of my kindergarten classroom wishing that everyone could just SHUT UP for a second so I could demand some answers
Dear teacher, you showed us what lions and dogs and cats and zebras and giraffes looked like and led us to ROAR WOOF MEOW together in unison but what do zebras and giraffes say? Are they not granted voices because of how odd they look?
And you told us that we were Chinese but where IS China you say we are IN China right now but isn’t this place called Hong Kong then why were all the other kids laughing at me when I said I was Hongkongese?
And you taught us to sing songs about our moms and dads being the best parents in the world which made them very happy but how would I know if they’re really the best when everybody else is singing the exact same thing?
Dear first boy I loved that hated red, what do you mean you don’t know what love means? You’re not supposed to say another girl’s name when I ask you which girl you like most. I hated red because I loved you. I removed every bits of red in my life and I guess now I have to remove love too.
And dear mom, could you please stop begging these kids to let me join their games? I’m not weird, I just prefer sitting here by myself I don’t want anything to do with these incapable savages that count with their greasy fingers and can’t properly pronounce the word “blue”
Screaming devils pooping in their pants that somehow think they’re righteous enough to laugh at other people who do the same

If only I knew how to say “FUCK THIS” when I was younger
Perhaps I wouldn’t have listened to the doctor who said I was obese
Perhaps I wouldn’t have to be “it” every time when we play tag
Perhaps I wouldn’t have to be “it” back in year7 when other girls avoided these hands grasped by my first partner because I was—disgusting
Perhaps I would have been daring enough to slam my report cards and writings and recordings in their faces, the ones who think I’m not that bright, that I am more conventionally capable than they ever will be
Perhaps I would have spent less nights suffocating myself to sleep, leaving stains of tears on my pillow convinced that I could never be loved the way I wanted to
Perhaps I would be an exact copy of Eric Cartman by now, fat, but content with everything I have, with everything that I am, brave enough to say “SCREW YOU GUYS, I’M GOING HOME” whenever I feel like it


言午正宜 is all about trying to capture the light rays of a sunny afternoon, within words, but making sure it’s not overly bright and blinding. They care about accessibility and healing from trauma, because they are trying to become better, even without knowing for sure if there’s absolute good. They’re based in Hong Kong, deep-diving into the fields of Buddhist Counseling, tarot therapy, the Taoist framework, (un)doing gender. (Trying to start a healing account on Instagram called @cornerofhealing but procrastinating at the moment. Follow/DM them anyway to ask for their paid services if you feel any resonance!).