Come explore the exotic Asia
Come explore the exotic me
Taste me all you want
I don’t mind.
I don’t mind.
When I protest against my inhumanity,
I fall upon deaf ears,
stumble upon blind eyes,
for you see what you only want to see,
you hear what you only want to hear.
You only see our native dances
dancing for you and only you,
waving happily at you with my chinky eyes,
dazzling you with my saris,
obedient to your imperialist whims
You only smell the tantalizing scents
of the delicious dishes spread eagle before you,
take your pick from wontons to curry,
waiting for you to fuck me with your hungry mouth
But you do not truly see me.
You do not see the sweat glistening off my back
as I break myself picking sugar canes in Hawaii
You do not see the despair in my eyes
as my head is being smashed in by a baseball bat
You do not feel my humiliation
as my turban is being torn from me
You do not know the sacrifices
that I have made to be seen
as a true American,
only to be reminded that I am not,
with every chingchongtingtonglinglongs,
with every rant that we must go home,
with every hurtful words you spew at me
I am Taste of Asia, after all
I throw my pride and dignity away
for mere profits
so its okay,
I don’t mind.
the days that i spent here,
away from home,
doing what i love most,
has been a blessing
in every single way.
But it’s funny how
that when I leave home
for the first time
in over a year
I really appreciate
what I have back there,
waiting for me.
I miss driving in bad traffic (seriously)
I miss my acting school and my friends there
I miss my (mostly) Vietnamese crew
I miss my own bed
I…don’t miss my daytime job
I miss Korean food being right next to me
I miss Los Angeles
I’m coming home!
If I had my way in the world
I wish I can take a crowbar
and smash in the faces
of all the bullies and fuckers
who have tormented me,
of all the adults
who think they are so
better than me,
look down on me,
sneer at me,
I dream of becoming a giant
so I can squish these motherfuckers with glee,
each laugh of mine a measurement,
of the misery they have inflicted upon me,
each body crushed a testament
that they cannot fuck with me
without getting fucked back.
I dream of a world,
a world where people beckons to my call,
a world where I make the rules.
My name is Tetsuo Shima
I an 16 years old
I live in Neo Tokyo
My best friend is Shotaro Kaneda
who I have come to see as a brother
as I never had parents of my own,
loving parents to take care of me.
I think I remember them
before the explosion
before the flash of light
that would change my life.
I remember my mom’s laugh,
my dad’s goofy smile
and the airplane rides he gave me
with his really large feet.
That’s all I remember of them.
Everything after that,
living in an orphanage,
I was known as the crybaby
I would always be picked on
I was never the cool one
and I grew to despise myself,
despise my own fraility,
despise people all around me,
as I saw nothing worth liking.
I wish I can step on them,
like I step on the roaches
living in my dank small room.
Kaneda came into my life later
and I immediately trusted him
as he actually took notice of me,
he would defend me
against the other bullies
and would give me advice
to how to fight effectively,
to how to woo and charm women,
even though I scratch my head
when he would receive more slaps
I don’t know,
I don’t think he actually sees me
as a person that can actually grow up,
he always puts me down
in all the smallest ways
and it just makes me despise myself
that I have come to depend on an individual
who can never see me as a man.
I make choices to define my destiny
and each of these choices,
however small they may be,
carries weight that cannot be measured
by any scale or man-made machine.
I make choices
without fully promising one or the other
but knowing secretly that one of them
holds a higher value
that in my mind,
may be a better stepping stone
to my goal I want to achieve.
But because I placement judgment,
that one is worth higher than the other,
I feel guilty for doing so,
knowing that whatever choice I make,
has people attached to it
that will become affected.
So I leave it up to Fate
and see which way
the pendulum swings.
I must choose one or the other,
knowing that to go with one,
I will upset the other,
damned if I do,
damned if I don’t.
The more I really think about it
the more I think the term
“Person of Color”,
is actually quite stupid.
Everybody in this world
has a color to their skin,
(yes, even white people)
and to say that term only applies
to black people
or maybe other repressed minorities,
is a belief that grows sillier with sprouting horns
as I try to comprehend its significance
that has been imposed on me
by self-professed racial activists and scholars
refusing to let go of their narrow-minded worlds.
I am only a minority
if I see myself as a minority
and while I should not discredit who I am
I am not going to let the limitations of society,
nor my own peers,
stop me in what I want to achieve.
This color I possess,
while I acknowledge its difficulties,
have a unique pride and quality
that I would not trade for the whole world
so while I am a person of color,
I am also not
for I am me,
I am Edward Hong,
I am yellow,
my color comes with stories
just like your white, black, red, and brown skins.
we are all colored.
Let’s mix the paint colors up,
i was hardly known to be the level-headed one
far too often, i am impetuous and impatient
driven by chaotic forces to do things at will
but when responsibilities started growing
like bunnies on a sexual hyper overdrive
i came to realize, slowly but surely,
that to be levelheaded,
to keep my level of cool
is a genuine sanity saver
the effort of just taking into account
the little things around me:
seeing that freckle on that girl’s face,
smelling the brisk chilly air,
humming my favorite song softly,
slowing my world down just a tad
allows me to control my own destiny
one responsibility at a time.