New York City (January 2025). In Washington Square Park, I’m with my friend Elizabeth, and I comment on an art piece to a man next to us. “It looks like the Bean in Chicago.” He tells us he used to be a bank robber and got locked in the 90s, and got out of jail a few years ago. “Congratulations!” say Elizabeth and I ¹.

A city of multitudes. I’m at a party with my friend from school, Herbert, who I met when I was 12 as his orientation penpal. Herbert wears his dress shirt in the morning before heading off to his job as a consultant. “What happened to us, Herbert?” Later, at a party, a girl tells me she works in derivatives. “Like dy/dx?” I play. She’s ticked off by that one.

I can see my breath in the air, I hear a violin echoing on the subway, the flow of people, like busy ants bustling between skyscrapers, on the way very fast towards somewhere.

Leon and I watch Frances Ha (2012). A warm, quirky reminder that being in your 20s life doesn’t always go your way, and that’s okay.

Gothenburg, Sweden (July 2025). I’m talking with my cousin’s husband, Pranav. They live in this quiet university town with excellent public transport, free healthcare and higher education. We are talking about the promise of American life and the American dream. Pranav doesn’t see the point – he says he has everything already right now where he is. What would be the point of doing a risky startup in the Silicon Valley when he has a good, steady industry job? Before I moved out to California this year, a different family friend warned me: “beware of the Bay Area. The culture sucks you up and you may feel like you never have enough”. Now, listening to Pranav, I get what he’s saying, and can’t help but feel that I’ve inhaled some of the Bay’s toxic fumes of ambition.

In Heathrow Terminal 5 (July 2025), I missed my flight because of delays. In the intervening hours, I see planes heading to Hong Kong, Sydney and Seattle. Airports are like portals between dimensions; a plane ticket like a portkey. In the midst of it all, the intersection of worlds, I imagine that I could go anywhere – because technology can bring us virtually anywhere on the planet – and yet now I choose to go to the place I call home.

The Conservatism of Ezra Klein. I’ve been a fan of the Ezra Klein Show since 2019. There was a time when I listened to every single episode (they come out twice a week and are sometimes over two hours!). When I started listening, his show was his own thing – a beautiful blend of culture, politics, and societal commentary (and let’s not forget, an outspoken vegan!) – what has become of Ezra now? Now the assertive, bearded pundit, the mouth of the liberal bastion. These days I feel noise (from the Latin nausea) from Ezra, like he’s telling me news just for the drama, just to stress me out – because that’s where he is.

Speaking of beards, I have one now (December 2025). I started shaving when I was 15 and have basically been clean-shaven since. At the beginning of this month, I thought I’d grow a goatee. One major reason is that it’s a lot of effort to shave specifically the chin and upper-lip because of the concavities and crevices. I grew out facial hair a little about two years ago in Taiwan. The beard felt unbecoming, like it portrayed me as an adult or grown up and I’m not sure if I’m that. Maybe I am. It’s a different look, certainly – after a weekend of growing it out, I walk into work and people comment on the look, which, after a haircut, is now well-defined. I find the comments confusing to respond to at times. It’s like when people comment on how deep my voice is – it’s just something I was born with. As much as I painstake over my appearance, and think and rethink about how my beard feels on my skin, in my moments of higher wisdom, I recognize that the way I look doesn’t matter as much as the way I act and orient towards those around me.