journal/

on-going mostly unedited stream of thoughts

first impressions of shanghai

Recently I’ve been thinking how there is time, and then there are opportunities. We can have a lot of time, but there may not be the same opportunities. The covid lockdown is an example: there was time, but mobility was severely restricted. Sometimes almost everything is in place, but we are restricted by health and spirit. We need both to act. I realise as I age that I am slowly losing the will to do the things I used to love doing. There is just less energy, mentally and physically.

With all of that in mind we decided to make the trip to shanghai for my birthday. It could very well be our last trip for a long while considering the geopolitical situation. I hope not, but the world doesn’t function according to my hopes.


I watched plenty of vlogs before the trip for research, but reality is always different from the perception created from videos. I haven’t really been to china proper in my entire life, only to shenzhen and zhuhai more than a decade ago, and I consider them to be hongkong-adjacent.

photo of wukang mansion
taking the cliché photo

Shanghai is a fascinating city, with the old and new and everything in between. For the first few days I felt like I was in some fog of confusion. I’ve always considered myself ahead of the technological curve, but I had to properly learn how to do payments here. I had wondered in singapore why the chinese f&b chains insist on us making orders through an app: there is an app for each chain, it is annoying when you just want to try one drink. Over here everything is ordered through one single app – wechat. wechat and alipay both run mini apps within their app. You could buy train tickets, subway tickets, attraction tickets, food, groceries, everything through either wechat or alipay. This is the first time I am truly experiencing the all-in-one app experience and it is mind-blowing. They have developer documentation to make a html5 mini app that you can run within the main app. We have tech companies in Singapore trying to do the same giant app thing, but I guess there are no business incentives to collaborate in that way.

photo of Paper Moon, a women's bookshop
photo of students hanging out at a stationary shop after school

There are scenes we don’t see in Singapore, due to space and cultural constraints. I think there is a fascination with the old for many Singaporeans, because there is almost nothing old in Singapore.

photo of a cello/violin repair shop
photo of hanging laundry at tianzifang

But don’t be mistaken by my photos. I am simply drawn to the old and the quaint. There are a ton of new mega-malls in shanghai that would make any mall in singapore look old. It is quite jarring and disturbing sometimes.

photo of a dry cleaner

I feel like I have not really processed my thoughts on shanghai, or china. But I am yet reminded again why I travel despite not having much will for it anymore. It expands my imagination and perception of human beings. Sometimes it is easy to assume people are the same, or base our perception of “people” on the people we are exposed to. In just shanghai alone we have had many different encounters with people across a wide spectrum. I am again thinking of the war and can’t help but feel profound sadness at how cavalier we are with human life when it is so endlessly fascinating.

45

If you told me ten years ago that the world would be the way it is now I would have laughed. They say reality is stranger than fiction: these days I keep thinking to myself that the current reality wouldn’t even have made it into a story because it is just too incredible.

Around 10 years ago my personal reality collapsed. I moved back to Singapore to heal, and to spend time with the elderly. Only upon hindsight I am able to feel such gratitude to my younger self for making such a decision. These 10 years went by in a flash. I am so glad I had them, especially in today’s context. The world is getting more and more unstable, and it seems more difficult to have joyful times.

I don’t like Jeff Bezos for obvious reasons, but I distinctly remember learning about his regret minimisation framework. I already had that sort of life philosophy prior to reading about it, but having it put in such concrete terms seared it deeply into my mind. So I try to live my life in a way that potentially minimises regrets. I don’t know who I am when I am 80 or when I am on my deathbed, so I have no idea if the potential regrets I may have now would be the same regrets I would have when I am dying. For example, work used to be the most important thing to me. I don’t give a shit about it now. So if I had prioritised work to minimise my regrets I would have deeply regretted it when I am 80.

But we can only do our best at any given time. As of now I don’t regret giving my all to my work back then because it had allowed me to experience a particular dimension of life. However it was important that I pivoted away from it when there were more meaningful things appearing in my life. This is why constant self-examination is crucial for me. It is a mistake to assume that we will always be the same person, have the same preferences and goals, and that we have accurate knowledge of who we are. I am almost always surprised at my own inner state changes. When I left SF I thought I would miss it deeply, but 10 years later I still don’t.


It is a particularly surreal time. For a long while I knew I was running against time because of climate change, and then covid. But it had felt like it would take a long while for the cascading effects to take place. Now it feels like I could wake up tomorrow to someone nuclear bombing the world and it wouldn’t surprise me. Everything seems normal but nothing is.

This is weird to write for a birthday post. But at age 45 the fact that life is impermanent is hitting me harder than ever. Everything feels poignant to me. It is cherry blossom season in Shanghai now, and I feel like life is like these trees. They bloom for just a little while, and it is over before we know it. Perhaps we can catch them again next year but it is never guaranteed.

I have my younger selves to thank because I tried my best to live my life as widely and deeply as I could for the past 10 years instead of sleepwalking around. So how do I live in such a way that my older selves would appreciate?

I don’t have answers. Life is ambiguous. But even at age 35 I knew spending time with my loved ones is something I would regret if I didn’t do it. I guess I have to thank the passing of my grandmother for that stark reminder. Material goals will always be fleeting.


Spiritual will and courage are required to live life as pursuing a life full of aliveness is inherently difficult. It is just easier to do nothing in autopilot mode. How do I conjure this courage time and time again? I am tired. Just not too long ago it was common for people to die in their 40s. I can’t help but wonder if I’ll live to see my 50s.

Holding the acute awareness of impermanence is painful yet it is required to minimise regrets. Even if there is time there may not be the same opportunities. Even if there are similar opportunities one may not have the bandwidth or capacity to accept them. We have to seize the day, especially in today’s times. But even without a war, there is always the threat of illness and loss lurking in some corner, waiting to catch us unaware.

I guess this sounds like an untenable way to live life, always waiting for the other shoe to drop. But it is this attitude that enables me to look back the last 10 years and feel like I have mostly no regrets. Since for me the shoe is always going to drop, I am always zooming everywhere, trying to catch every drop of life that can possibly exist before reality changes. This sounds strange for an occassional passively suicidal person. It is a strange dimension to live in, the space between annihilation and exhilaration.

overwhelming sadness

[tw: self-annihilation] Yesterday I had another crying episode, triggered by a seemingly small incident. It felt a dam had broke in me, and I struggled to rein in all the sadness that was being unleashed. It has been a long time since I had last cried (that was not due to media consumption).

Whenever I look sad my partner would ask me what is wrong. But I tell her actually that sadness is the truth of my inner reality, whereas I am just conditioned to put on a mask the rest of the time. It is a mask that I didn’t choose to put on, it is just there even if I don’t want it. It is difficult because when I do break down, people think it is me who has broken down when in actual fact it is my mask that has broken down.

Every single day I feel like sisyphus. People tend to only feel bad when something terrible has happened, but feeling bad is my baseline. I can self-medicate with a ton of caffeine and sugar, but that has consequences. In a typical day I struggle to go about my day because everything feels like a massive task. It got worse when the pandemic happened, because then I was afraid the virus would kill or disable someone I care about. These days it feels like I’m waiting for the shoe to drop because I don’t know when the consequences of the middle east war would start to hit our shores.

The only way I cope with this is to keep distracting myself. But I know I am distracting myself. So I can be having fun with my partner somewhere doing something we love, but deep within me I still know something is wrong. If I get too good at distracting myself losing my sense of time, instead of finding joy being in a flow state I feel like I am being avoidant.

It takes a lot of psychological energy for me to do normal things. I feel like life itself is like aerobic exercise. Like training myself to run long distances I have to put up with the discomfort of tiring my aerobic system. To live, I keep having to desensitise myself to my own feelings so they don’t get in the way. If I simply gave in to my feelings I wouldn’t be able to get out of bed and lead a life. I would simply do nothing. Because they are just too heavy and overwhelming.


Due to my recent interest in jazz I’ve been reading up on its history. I read the wikipedia page of Charlie Parker yesterday and it was so saddening. I think the issue with me is that I don’t avoid sadness. I stare at it in its face. In turn, I absorb it and it becomes part of me.

It seems like it was not uncommon for jazz musicians (or artists in general) to struggle with drug addiction and die young. Charlie Parker was only 34 when he passed. I was a very unformed human being at that age so I can’t imagine dying at a point of my life when I didn’t even know who I was. But I often wonder if I had been born in different conditions would I have struggled with massive addiction issues too? I can imagine that it would have been a relief to have something that can deal with those feelings, even for a little while. I often wonder if I would have been an alcoholic if I wasn’t allergic to alcohol.


Anyway. This post goes nowhere. I guess the only “healthy” coping mechanism I have is to write it all out. I feel like an alien born in the wrong world. Almost everyone else seems to be great at shrugging off reality whereas I am drowning in sadness and dread. I don’t even know how my partner tolerates my presence when I can’t even do it for myself. I can’t take a break from this inner reality.

People often wonder why do some choose to end their lives when there is so much to live for. I try to document my inner state in detail so there could be some understanding that not everybody possesses an innate motivation to live. I think it can be difficult to relate, but try to imagine being trapped in a state that you have no way out of, forever. And then, imagine living in a world where almost everyone looks at you like you are insane for being this way.

That said. I have people who care about me, even though I feel like the version of me they think they are caring for is not actually me. I would be equally devastated if someone I know chose to end their lives even if I can totally relate to why. I guess at some level I am still human after all.

But I still believe it is important to express the incompatibility I have with this world and this life.

an ordinary day

We spent most of the last week at home because our immunity could be compromised right after we got our yearly novavax vaccine. It did make me feel exceptional fatigue for a few days. I also developed itching at the site which never happened for me before, even with the mrnas. We felt more stable after a few days, so we went to town to run some errands.

It is such a typical day for us, yet it is not. Singapore is relatively sheltered from the war right now, but who knows? Our minister tried to assure us that there is enough energy to last us for months, but the way I read it instead was that we only have enough to last us for months. Same sentence, vastly different sentiments. Singapore would probably buy her way out of it, but I am not sure at what cost, and maybe in this age I am not sure if money can always solve everything. Energy aside there will be several knock-on repercussions and there may also be more geopolitical instability. Everyone else is thinking this is just another war, but it is difficult for me to believe so.

Also I am not sure how much a human being can ignore the mass suffering of others even if they are not directly involved. I believe there is a psychological cost. How will this cost manifest?

I don’t really want to wait till the situation gets dire to start living differently. Hence I’ve been asking myself how differently would I live if the world as I know it would end soon? I am somewhat mentally prepared for this, because for me the world as I knew it died way back in 2016 after the presidential elections. Back then most people out of US didn’t care because it is another country’s elections. Well.


So we headed out, just like any other day. But I had a background voice telling me to cherish and savour everything. There was this quote circulating around the internet saying that we don’t know when is the last moment we have with someone (or something) but there will definitely be one. That has been my personal attitude for the past few years (since covid) but unfortunately (or fortunately) it has heightened.

My partner dressed up (or at least this is our version of dressing up, usually we are in tees and shorts). I decided to follow suit. I am always in the same black vneck unless it is our anniversary, so this is rather unusual for me.

I just wanted to document this ordinary day. Things we can do so easily now. I am sure there are many people with stable existences and things they can do very easily too until war broke out in their countries.


I used to be carb phobic, but these days with strength training coupled with a hedonistic attitude I am just going to enjoy my food (outdoors):

sour cream shio pan
omg us in shirts!
shopping for expensive chocolates
our favourite matcha

Everytime we are in town we go to my favourite physical bookstore. War aside physical bookstores are slowly dying, so I tend to feel like it is a sacred visit with a ton of gratitude that it is still there.

very apt for these times, but i am not sure if I can believe this anymore
very meta
my partner’s favourite corner: the japanese craft section
she likes stuff from this korean brand

I try not to eat desserts unless it is an exercise day, but on that day I was like what the heck and promptly chose an chocolate eclair with durian filling.

very delicious
very delicious part ii

When I look at other people’s blogs I tend to envy slice-of-life posts the most. Maybe it is because I find them difficult for myself. Like who wants to look at mundane photos of my day?

But increasingly I find the ordinary days are the ones I cherish the most. Because my days can so easily be filled with dread, anxiety, depression, stress, etc. When a loved one was hospitalised I was inevitably unstable, how could I allow myself simple things like eating my favorite foods?

This day was so ordinary for us, yet I am terrified that I will feel immense nostalgia and grief one day when I look back at this post. However, I am certain that I will be glad that I took the chance to document and have an ordinary day like this.

wet blanket

A long while ago I told a friend I didn’t feel like I was up to catching up because I have become a very cynical and “negative” person since the pandemic started (or maybe even 2016). I put negative in quotation marks because I am not sure if I am being truly negative or just being truthful. Is painting an accurate representation of reality being negative? Is my perception of reality even accurate?

I just didn’t want to be that wet blanket. She responded kindly, saying that she doesn’t mind me being negative with her because that’s what friends are for. It was a really nice gesture from her, but even if people are okay with me being their wettest blanket – I don’t want to be one.

Being autistic I cannot help but speak my mind. But I also have excessive empathy, so I prefer to avoid making people feel bad because it makes me feel bad too. Friends are supposed to be warm and supportive. I am that friend who will feel more traumatised than them when they want to marry their toxic partner or when they want to make that financially stressful purchase when they are already under a ton of chronic stress. I feel anxious for them and it upsets me greatly that there is nothing I can do when I see people I care about walk towards the cliff.

I know, I know. People should have boundaries. People should own their decisions. All I can do is to be there when shit happens. But people are blissfully unaware when they are walking towards that cliff while I am fretting their every step along the way. There must be something wrong with me with my inability to keep my psychological boundaries. I felt extremely upset when I read about a jazz guitar player who died of heroin abuse because she has to endure being a woman at a time where people didn’t want to play with her because of her gender. If I feel extremely upset about someone who died more than 3 decades ago, what more friends that I actually care about?

This is much worse after covid. Now I have to witness family and friends rack up infection after infection putting their health in danger. More people walking off the cliff while I stare helplessly.

It is not fun being a witness and it is worse being a harbinger of doom. I can barely tolerate my own existence because there is just so much sadness to bear. I am a wet blanket to myself. I have to endure my own perception of this harsh reality and its associated thoughts. If you think it is such a drag reading this blog, imagine being the one writing it. I once jokingly asked my partner if she would swop brains with me and she looked at me in sheer horror.

It is not easy being in a relationship with a personality like mine. I am aware of the weight I carry, a weight that is extremely hard for myself. In a relationship, I inevitably weigh my partner down too. There are reasons why I celebrate monthly anniversaries. Because I incessantly wonder: for how long more will she stay?

Strangely till now she remains rather insulated and perhaps she is secretly darker than me, except she has the capacity to exist in a different dimension if she chooses to. She immerses herself in her art. We can somewhat co-exist because we share a similar perception of reality. I don’t feel insane when I converse with her because she is able to see where I am coming from. Still, there is considerable guilt.

She is the only person in this world whom I can be my pure dripping-wet-blanket self with. She accepts it when I have to curl up into a fetal position. Tells me she will be with me if I choose to end my journey one day if it gets too hard for me. I say this with great seriousness: she is keeping me alive.

Every day it hurts me to be alive. It hurts me to hurt other people too. I don’t want to be an active actor rippling unintended effects, so I try to keep my footprint small. The only exception is this blog I guess – the only space where I can be genuinely my self. But people can choose to not read my writing.

I have to maintain my own sanity by limiting my exposure to what that can cause me disturbance and anxiety. Sometimes it is easier to think of myself as psychologically handicapped: I lack the psychological barriers that must exist in order to function normally in this painful world. I try not to ask of myself to be normal even though it is a difficult internal habit to break. I won’t ask someone who is allergic to seafood to consume seafood, so I should learn to accommodate to my own sensitivities too.

Alone, I deal with my demons, perceptions and projections. I prefer to contain them within myself. With other people it is difficult to contemplate thoroughly the repercussions of my words and actions. It is one thing to have a heavy presence, and another thing altogether to have someone experience my weight right in front of me. It is one of the worst feelings for a highly sensitive person.

living in surreal times

Sometimes I think it is such a luxury to write mundane posts: like what we’re eating, listening, experiencing, etc. We don’t realise how much it takes to do something simple like sit down and have a coffee while listening to some music. When the consciousness is filled with stress and anxiety, or when our existential survival is threatened, these simple activities are not afforded.

Today I planned to write a post about my current favourite jazz albums. But I can’t ignore what is happening in the middle east. According to some sources (this video from Sky News was actually the mildest I’ve seen) the world is about to experience a deep economic shock on top of the other damage that comes from wars, but most people do not seem to know what is truly going on. We think it is just another war, just another conflict – as though the word war bears no weight anymore. We have not only become desensitised, we are also no longer informed. I feel like I am living in my own reality.

Yesterday we came across a travel fair in town. People were snapping up tour packages. They probably do not know jet fuel prices have surged sharply in just a few days. At this rate jet fuel prices seem the least of our concerns because the world has experienced a ton of irrecoverable damage.

It is very surreal. I find myself wanting to become delusional in my thinking, hoping that everything I am reading turns out to be wrong and things will just normalise by next week. The logical part of my brain cannot see how this can be resolved. I want to grab on to every piece of normalcy I can find. I am still hoping there will be some people behind the scenes who can fix this.

There is a lot in life that is out of our control, especially when we have people with questionable sanity ruling the world. In times like these I find comfort in the small and mundane things. The key is to recognise the impermanence in our moments, and hence their preciousness. I hug my partner tighter, I am still going to drink that coffee while listening to my jazz albums. There is existential anxiety, despair and dread, but I am going to stretch each moment as widely as possible.

on learning the piano with baby steps

I’ve been learning the piano for about 3 months now. When I first picked it up again I was very skeptical because I have a history of learning things at short intense bursts, before burning out. Also having observed myself for 4ish decades I don’t seem like a music or musical instrument kind of person. There is this subconscious belief that we have natural inclinations and yearnings towards things. I had actually learnt a few musical instruments as a child: the organ, the er-hu (chinese violin), the chinese flute. I thought if I like playing music it would have caught on by now.

Upon some deeper contemplation perhaps these days I like playing the piano not particularly because I like playing music, but rather the sense of progress of a very unfamiliar spectrum of skills. For most of my life I had always been living in my mind, as though my body didn’t exist. I loved the computer because it allowed me to express and exercise my mind with very minimal physical skills unless you count using the mouse. I liked activities like reading and writing, which also didn’t involve much use of the body. Hence when I deeply struggled when I was chronically sick, because I didn’t know what to do with myself when I couldn’t use my mind. It is as though my entire existence consists only of thoughts and words (and in my opinion this is a recipe for depression, at least for me).

Then I picked up running and strength-training, which had the opposite effect. They allowed me to stop using my mind so much. I developed a relationship with my body for the first time, and discovered so belatedly that the health of my mind actually relies so much on the health of my body.

Learning the piano is an exceptionally different experience for me because it requires both the mind and the body, as well as the marriage between the two. I guess we could almost say the same of drawing, except drawing didn’t require me to have strong flexible fingers. Unlike drawing (at least for the sort of rudimentary drawing I could do), it also requires me to develop:

  • focus
  • memory
  • pattern recognition
  • multi-tasking: playing while looking ahead at the score
  • brain-eye-hand co-ordination
  • interpretation skills: to look at a note and know what it means
  • stronger fingers and flexibility: being able to repeatedly pound weighted keys while stretching them across at maximum

Currently I am on method 4e of Piano Marvel. It has gotten both progressively harder and also somewhat easier. Easier because my sight-reading has improved and I can spend less time recognising notes when I play a piece for the first time. Harder because it requires more technique.

These days I would start a new piece, try playing it and then think that it seems impossible for me to learn it. I would make so many mistakes, play so many wrong notes, my right hand can barely play the melody, much less play with the left. The tempo also feels insane: I can barely play it slowly, how am I supposed to play it at speed?

But somehow, as long as I am willing to play it very very terribly, somehow it would improve. Perhaps it would be only 3% right, but maybe the next attempt it would be 4% and so on. Sometimes there are sudden huge leaps in progression, which makes me marvel at how quickly the brain and body can learn. Then, slowly but surely, I would be able to play the song.


I think there are two major related factors at play for my progress. The most important factor is setting the intention to learn how to sight-read no matter what, no matter how stupid and slow it makes me feel. I once learnt somewhere that the difference between a polyglot and the average person is that the polyglot is willing to endure feeling stupid and embarrassed. The reality is learning a language for most people is always difficult at the beginning even for polyglots, but they put up with it as they know it is just part of the process. Then they actively practice it with other people even though it makes them sound terrible. Most people give up because they think learning languages is a natural talent, and even if they do learn it they can’t make themselves practice it. I mean, imagine constant stuttering and mistakes when conversing with a native speaker, and having to put up with a sense of frustration for both sides.

(People don’t realise how much emotional regulation influences learning progress. If there is any “in-born” talent at anything I feel emotional regulation would be it, in the sense that a lot of how we develop regulation skills is determined during early childhood and it is mostly taken out of our hands. We need emotional regulation skills to endure frustration etc.)

Because I wanted to learn how to sight-read, I picked Piano Marvel as an app to use. Its unique proposition is its focus on sight-reading. What I think it excels in, is the scaffolding. It really starts at the very beginning teaching us to recognise and play just one note. Then it adds one more, and so on. So we make small baby steps. What this gifts is a sense of progress that is actually attainable. It can contribute accumulatively to burnout if progress is too difficult to attain.

(Of course most people would recommend having an actual teacher but I have that type of personality that doesn’t do well with being taught. I do feel like there are people similar to me that will do better with an app instead of a human. I just *really* don’t enjoy being paced by other people. It is not like I want to become a professional musician or take a graded exam – I just want to play casually.)

Earlier on in my journey I tried to learn a song that was beyond my level. I did learn it eventually, but I played hundreds of attempts until both my wrists and fingers were sore, and I had pretty bad brain fog the next day. Only upon hindsight much later I realised it would have taken me 20% of the time and effort to learn the same song if I had waited till I was at the right level, because I would have already acquired the sight-reading ability, hand-coordination and finger flexibility required. I could have skipped all the brute-forcing and rote memorisation. Hence I stopped trying to skip steps or make dramatic jumps, and I went back to taking baby steps.


I think the concept of scaffolding is really demonstrated to me very clearly by Piano Marvel and it makes me think about learning in general. I think being a quick learner in some scenarios sabotaged me in others. Like I tend to have an inner-expectation of attaining some level of skill within a short-time so I never developed the skills or patience needed to learn something slowly in baby steps. Now, I am reminded again and again that scaffolding that supports sustainable attainable progress makes a dramatic difference.

I think living itself is a giant inter-connected learning experience. We not only learn skills, but we learn to be human, and we learn to become. Through learning something we are learning about the skill of learning itself. learning how to play the piano is changing how I think about myself. I was never a committed learner, in the sense I had traditionally found it difficult to put in the grunt work of learning. Something either made sense to me intuitively or not. This is probably the first time I am learning something so slowly and truly from scratch. It is humbling and yet inspiring. It makes me wonder what other experiences are now open to me, now that I have learnt to learn? That instead of desiring unrealistic giant leaps I possess the embodied experience of what it is like to experience attainable progress through baby steps. What other baby steps I can make?

alone, with music

I can see that if I didn’t have a set routine that has been established for more than a decade, I would probably not write this post. It is strange to observe myself sometimes: at times I am great at breaking out of rigid structures and routines, other times I would rather not change something I’ve been doing for a long time. Is this my adhd vs autistic self?

There are other things I would prefer to do right now than to sit down and transcribe something ambiguous out of my mind. But there is a part of me that knows this forced routine is good for me no matter how I feel. It is a snapshot of myself recorded in time, a voice that is different from my private journals. It is slightly ironic but my private journals can be a lot more mundane, whereas when I write here I am forced to dig somewhere deeper.


These days my life is filled with music. I practice playing the piano, and in between I listen to piano jazz. It all started from listening to The Köln Concert, which made me dust off my old in-ear monitors (iems) so I can listen to it properly. For a long prior I couldn’t be bothered with the (considerably low) effort it takes to listen to high resolution music, so I was only listening to my old music library with a pair of airpods, if I was listening to anything at all. Running was the only time I would listen to music.

The experience of listening to The Köln Concert with my iems was a little shocking. It felt like the music was tickling my brain. I have forgotten how iems can sound, and I think the effect is less dramatic with the mainstream (1980s to 2000s) pop I typically tend to listen to. This set me off on a renewed journey to dust-off my old high definition audio equipment. I don’t even remember why I stopped in the first place. I think these activities need a sort of psychological spirit I seem to keep writing about, and I think I was probably in a deep existential depression likely triggered by the pandemic and what it exposed of the world.

I think I went through the 5 stages of grief and now I seem to be in the acceptance stage. It is not like being chronically upset with the world does anything and it was slowly shrinking me as a person. I can only focus on what is immediately around me, including myself. Is this selfish? I don’t know. But why does a poor human being – already subject to so much negative conditioning once they exist – have to be responsible towards so much more? We not only have to try to turn out well as individuals, we have to be responsible towards our family, our community, our society, and even the larger part of the world. Sometimes, if not all the time, it feels so heavy, so much. I read an article about a theory of neanderthals consciously choosing to disappear because this is not a world they would like to survive in and I can totally relate to that. Life is not automatically net positive for some.

Sometimes I tell my partner that I still would rather not have been born. Thankfully she doesn’t take it personally and she empathises with me. She sees all the little paper cuts that hurt me on a daily basis. But since I am here, what is it I can do to make my own existence more bearable?


I’ve been a lot less online recently due to the piano and the jazz. If I’m online it is because I am researching some obscure audio stuff. I spend a lot less time on social networks. It is weird because I was lived so much of my life online. But I don’t miss it much. I don’t miss people much either. I seem to finally feel pretty okay alone (with my partner). I do think it is extremely weird that I don’t have much social needs when most people seem to flounder without it.

This post: I am almost tempted to simply publish it without disseminating it on mastodon or ig stories. It just doesn’t seem to matter anymore. I feel like the fact that I bothered to disseminate my blog posts in the first place was because I somehow still believed human connection was important no matter how asynchronous it was. But these days it feels less and less important. I am not sure if it is the ageing or that I’ve simply given up.

music, a deep rabbit hole

I listened to the köln concert by Keith Jarrett after watching a youtube video on how it became the best selling piano album despite being played on a broken piano. It quickly grew on me and I found myself listening to it on repeat. I was/am very intrigued in so many ways: jazz, the concept of improvisation, why are so many people drawn to that particular album. It led me into a very deep rabbit hole I am still in now.

As a person with zero-training in music I had thought music is spontaneously composed with imagination and creativity. Trying to understand jazz made me realise otherwise. A lot of music is very deliberately constructed with known patterns and an profound sense of how the human brain reacts to certain sounds. Watching this video of why John Coltrane was so groundbreaking blew my mind. A jazz musician is not making random sounds (sorry I was really not a music person), they leverage upon a large music vocabulary that requires in-depth knowledge.

I also knew nothing about the history of jazz. It was such an education trying to learn more about it. That jazz has its origins in African music – the improvisation, the call & response, the creativity, the lack of formal musical notation, etc. Blues – which jazz developed upon – evolved from the American-African slave communities. It made me contemplate deeply on how despite the depressing and harsh conditions surrounding those times, people still wanted to make music. I have always thought that if I were in similar shoes, making music would be the last thing on my mind. But perhaps I am wrong, perhaps there is something fundamental and primitive about human creativity, and it being a response to psychological stimuli and suffering. When there is nowhere to turn to, there is always art.


Because of my recent tastes youtube has started recommending me a whole ton of videos on music. I’ve been complaining to my partner about how modern music sounds bad and that I feel lucky that I was born in the 80s so I could experience the golden age of Cantopop. We also had bands like Oasis, Garbage, Suede, etc. In response she said that’s how everyone think about their own generation.

Turns out it is not purely my imagination that music sounds bad these days, as Rick Beato explains in this video. We used to record actual drums and guitars, and it used to be a tedious endeavor with microphones being placed in countless strategic positions to record the sounds. Now, they just use computers to create that drum beat. Not only we don’t record actual music played by people anymore, these days they are releasing music made by A.I..

I also watched famous japaness jazz pianist Hiromi talk about how shocked she was when she heard people are now watching movies at 2x. She was wondering if they have the attention span to sit through a 40-minute set. Will they listen to her music at 2x too?

In that same interview Hiromi mentioned Oscar Peterson as a great influence, so I started to be curious about his music. Listening to “We get requests” (thanks reddit), I was astounded by how good the music sounds even though it was recorded in 1964. Upon googling the credit goes to Jim Davis the producer, who wanted to make the studio album sound like a live performance. Contrast this spirit with using computer-generated music because it is convenient. I’ve listened to music casually my entire life, but I’ve never thought about how much the sound engineering matters once. Or how much some individuals matter when it comes to decisions at these record companies.


I thought I was learning about music, but this early journey makes me think about the choices we make as people, and where we are going as technology continues to make strides. I think about all the artistry and effort that goes into becoming a jazz musician or producing a great record, I start to wonder if some of these would become extinct some day. Nobody wants to do tedious manual work anymore, since everything is just a click away.

I think about this in relation to myself. What am I choosing to click, and what am I choosing to do manually? What am I feeding my consciousness versus feeding the algorithms of my devices? It is precisely in such times that we need to exert our individual choices in order to preserve our humanity, or we’ll all start to function like the algorithms feeding us content: predictable and narrow.

That something like jazz is such a testament to humanity’s spirit and creativity, and yet it feels like we can be so careless with them.

Maybe this is why I love exercise. It is the one thing I can’t make the computer do for me (yet), and I have to put in the work. Learning the piano feels similar – there is just no cheating or instant solution. So is the desire to understand jazz more. I can listen to jazz very superficially like any other music, or I can learn to truly listen to it. I feel like the payoff at the end will be incredible, to experience wonder at the ingenuity of these musicians.

It seems like a very deep rabbit hole, this musical journey. I like that it may never have an end to it.


p.s. I just had a couple of days of insomnia so pardon me if this thing sounds disjointed.

1000 days of being covid-free

I started manually counting in Obsidian the days I tested negative for covid after my first and only (so far) covid infection in 2023. My initial intention was to document my health and fitness progress after post-covid in order to understand how long it took to get back to my baseline. Later on I also wanted to count the number of days before I got reinfected again. Back then I just felt it was a matter of time because it seemed so contagious – there is only so much one-way precautions can do. The number of days I went without getting reinfected again became larger and larger, and a couple of days ago I reached my 1000th day. 

What about asymptomatic infections one may ask? I wear an oura ring and monitor other biometrics daily, so I am pretty certain I would know something is up with my body even if I did not have symptoms outwardly. When I had covid my biometrics were clearly wrecked for a long while, and till today 1000 days later my overnight heart rate variability did not seem to recover to its previous baseline. I believe an asymptomatic infection would show up on these biometrics because of the inevitable systemic stress the virus would cause, and it would have been difficult to maintain any semblance of fitness.

In this day and age I think going 1000 days without getting reinfected is like a miracle, hence I am celebrating this milestone. There is definitely some privilege involved, because we don’t have to meet people if we don’t wish to. We also don’t have kids, and we both don’t need a social life. Still, it is a lot of work to keep up with the precautions. I was just lamenting to my covid cautious group that I am thankful that I can strength-train because I now need to bring a ton of stuff along with me when I travel, including an air-purifier. I am only moderately covid-cautious, so I can’t imagine what the zero-covid people go through. 

It seems like our current protocol has worked well, but I am not sure how much depended on luck. I do think based on probability covering most of the high-risk situations would go a long way, such as masking everywhere in indoor spaces and avoiding indoor-dining. We also don’t unmask when interacting with anyone except with each other. 

Is it worth it? Perhaps some people may think getting covid once or twice a year is a good tradeoff if one can go without precautions for the rest of the time. Say if the chance of getting covid is only 1% for an entire year, is it worth living such a limited life? To me, contemplating that 1% chance that I may get permanently disabled is enough motivation to continue being covid cautious. Unlike most people I know what it is like to experience life as a disabled person so I just don’t wish to go through that experience again. There is also a good scientific basis to believe that each infection is cumulative. I don’t want my heart rate variability — an indicator of cardiac health — to get worse. I guess knowledge is a curse: most people don’t monitor their biometrics the same way as I do, so they may not notice the invisible damage the virus has done.

Maybe if I didn’t have chronic disabling migraines I wouldn’t be covid cautious. I am who I am now because of my past. I can’t help but be very protective of my health, having lost it for a very long time before. These days I feel so utterly grateful for my capacity to run moderate distances, lift weights, and have a working mental capacity. There are less obvious capacities that come with health: such as being a good enough partner and to be able to perform some obligations to the people around me. I couldn’t lift a finger when I was sick. I wasn’t even sure if I could stay alive. I was depressed all the time, because mental health requires physical health. It is psychologically devastating to be incapable of doing anything, and it is neurologically devastating to be in bad physical shape since the brain requires a functioning metabolism.

I know too much now (thanks to my migraines I had to start reading medical research). It is not just vaguely: “covid causes systemic damage” – I know in great detail what damage it does. In order to be not covid cautious I have to bypass my conscious knowledge. It means lying to myself. For a long time I was wondering why was it so difficult for me to lie to myself, and now it makes so much more sense when I think of myself as autistic. If I give up on being covid cautious one day it means I have given up on life itself. Because I don’t see how I can live life consciously leaving my brain open to damage, risking the very thing that is the basis of my aliveness. Perhaps the meaning of life comes from being able to learn and grow, to observe who we are capable of becoming. That requires the brain to make connections and grow. We can’t learn anything and think in complex abstraction if the brain is not functioning. 

There is a part of me who thinks that publishing something like this again is going to put off a lot of people, but the autistic part of me greatly wants to simply be able to be myself and express what I truly think in the only space available for me to do so. Apart from my partner (and thankfully a covid-cautious chat group) I do not and cannot talk about covid cautiousness in physical reality.

I am thankful that my partner is on the same page with me. There are couples who break up over this, or one party has to live in cognitive dissonance in order to continue the relationship. She is actually more cautious than me, so she keeps me on my toes. She is also less psychologically affected by the limits put on our life. She doesn’t care about indoor dining or eating with people. I miss those things, but health still comes first.

There was a lot of grief in the first few years of being covid cautious, but I am more or less in the acceptance stage now. I am now wistful when I think about all the food I am missing out but I am a lot less angry about it. I would also love to eat with my family but reality is what it is. These are minor inconveniences compared to the actual suffering we have to go through if we become disabled. We still eat outdoors and go to the gym masked which I have become grateful for. I’m just glad to still be walking about relatively freely considering the state the world is in.

It seems like this is going to be our permanent reality. Knowing what I know now, even if they come up with a proper sterilising covid vaccine I would still avoid getting infected with any other virus. People treat their immune systems like a bullet proof vest (they are not – covid depletes it and is oncogenic), but even bullet proof vests get permanently damaged. I may consider differently if there is a prophylactic that is able to destroy all viruses. But it seems improbable at this point in time (especially due to the current political chaos), but the probability is not zero.

I also believe despite our precautions I/we may get infected again, but at the very least I can live with myself knowing I have tried my personal best. I can be even more cautious than I am now, but there is a personal threshold where my quality of life would greatly suffer. I guess I am only human after all. Still I think getting an infection every thousand days or so is not desired but acceptable considering the environment we are in. The body has time to recover instead of having to cope with another infection while it barely recovered from the last. I can observe that my baseline has been slowly getting better over the past 1000 days. I used to get a very high heart rate whenever I am stressed post-covid, but these incidences have greatly lessened.

Considering I fainted shortly post-covid and experienced high heart rate for some periods – for a while I thought I had long covid – I get ridiculously grateful whenever I am lifting weights or running. Some people experience acute trauma and forget about it, they can get back to doing the very thing that may cause them the same trauma. My partner says I am a trauma sponge, I do not forget, it haunts me perpetually, but the flip side of it is that I possess immense gratitude because I am constantly aware that I am able to experience what I cannot before. Getting covid was an acute trauma I cannot forget, living with chronic migraines is a chronic trauma that is still haunting me till this day, hence it makes all the work worthwhile when I am consciously very aware that this health I am experiencing right now is beautifully precious.

I think in current times where so much is defined by algorithms, AI and political obfuscation it is important to exert some independent investigation and contemplation. Hence it is also crucial to maintain an independent voice, however small it is. In a sea of darkness even a small source of light is comforting. Being stubbornly and publicly covid cautious – publicly documenting it on my small little independent website – is my way of rebellion in a world where people no longer care about scientific truth (though it is debatable if we ever did). People no longer want to discuss covid, but as long as it is still causing great harm I think it is vital to me as a human being to keep writing about it.