I wish I didn’t have to come back to this blog. Wish I didn’t have to revisit my Eurasian issues. There is nothing for me here but pain, disappointment, heartbreak, ugliness. I will always be a Eurasian. When in the 2nd grade I began my 1st autobiographical essay with the lines “My name is SEML, I’m half white and half Asian”, I was already writing the words that would define me for life. When I write my last final essay, I will begin it with the same words I did when I was 6 years old. I wish SEML was dead and buried. That at least that part of my life could have died, and I could have just been a normal, regular person. But that will never be. At the end of the day SEML is all I’m, all I will ever be. A Eurasian son of a White dad and an Asian mom. This is who I’m. This is what defines my identity. This is all other people will ever see in me. This is the mask I’m destined to wear on my face forever, until it becomes my face.
Would you believe me, if I told you that 2011 was the happiest year of my life? That when I wrote SEML, I was walking on clouds of pure joy, and my true hell was what came before and after? You heard me right, SEML was me at my happiest and giddiest. It was not me suffering from an unnatural depression. It was me at my most optimistic and starry-eyed. A time and moment in which all was possible, in which I believed I could love and be loved. In which I had my last illusions that I could be a human being. Casually I snuck in the post “A freak born of WMAF talks to a blonde girl”. Not condescending to mention, that this was the highest peak of my life. The closest to happiness and feeling, a Eurasian abomination like me could ever come.
I wish I did not have to revisit this blog. 2011 was a long time ago. In 1811 Napoleon ruled all of Europe from Spain to Russia. In 1814 Cossacks raped Paris, and Napoleon ruled the tiny island of Elba. Those years make all the difference in the world if you are a Great Man. If you are a little man, like me, they can mean something to. I hope perhaps I touched the lives of some people, although I will always be but a minor side character in the stage of my own life. 2012 a year of my lost dreams. 2013 the year that I killed myself. 2014 the year I should have returned to SEML. All was already lost by 2013, and there was no reason not to pour out my soul here. I wanted SEML to have been a completed project, a closed book. But I see now, I will never be able to close my Hapa issues, until I finally close the book of my life for good. I have come out of retirement, only to kill myself. Back from the dead, just to jump back into my grave. I wrote 24 posts in my old blog back in SEML. I have so much more to say now. I will write every day in the lead up to my suicide.
I have debated with myself, long and hard, whether my suicide should be defined by my Eurasianess. I wanted to retire from this. To take the burden of the Eurasian cause off my back. I didn’t want to have to be the voice and symbol of Eurasians. But I see now that I must write my final Eurasian appeal in my own suicide. This is the last power I will have as a Eurasian. To die of who I’m. To die of my WMAF parentage and let it be known. I can’t hide this from the world, I can’t go quietly into the good night. I have to share it with you. I don’t care if no one reads this. If I fail. I still have a duty to my Eurasian people, to write on with my blood and tears. I don’t care if in the end, whites and asians, are deaf to my cries. Perhaps a Eurasian will hear me. You are the future. You are the only ones who can stand against this great evil and make a difference. I have done all I could. But I see now I’m more valuable to the Eurasian cause, dead than alive. Eurasian life for me has long been an impossibility. I knew I could not go on. And yet still I avoided coming back here.
In 2013, when I was very well near jumping off the precipice into the black abyss, I very nearly considered killing off this blog before myself. I didn’t want it to be my legacy to the world. I didn’t want it to be linked to me after my death. Now obviously, I have come to opposite conclusions. Now I see this blog is my legacy and my only voice. I didn’t want to have to be defined by these issues. I wanted to be a human being who could live a life. To be happy and bring a little happiness to others in this cruel, dark, world. To light a candle in the pitch black night. I see now that was a hopeless dream. I did not choose my birth. Being Eurasian is all that I will ever be. This is my freakishness. My Elephant man hunchback. My beastliness. There will be no Beauty to save this Beast. I have wandered this Earth, as a Eurasian monster. An untouchable of the lowest caste. Hated by men, women and children everywhere. I could have written this blog for you in the 2nd grade. You can close the book of my life, at my 6th birthday. The rest is just footnotes and an epilogue. The drama, the plotline, the suspense, ended long ago. This is just my miserably ever after. The epilogue to the happily ever after of the WMAF marriage. I think it is important that the world know this is what I died of. That I kill myself in public, announce it on this blog, and put a Eurasian face and WASP last name on my suicide. I can’t die anonymously. This has to be a Eurasian death. Just as against my will, I have been forced to live a Eurasian life.
I thought SEML was a closed book. But now those 24 old posts of 2011, with double, quadruple. I will write 100 posts before I die. I will pour out whatever is left of my broken soul and heart. Perhaps I will not just touch on Hapa issues, but gesture towards the whole man I could have been. If I were not a Eurasian Monster. A freakish mutant of Hapaness. It didn’t have to be this way. There didn’t have to be anything wrong with being mixed race. But this is what the social relations of WMAF defines its sons as, in the current culture. If this can’t be changed, I will just be the 1st in the long wave of many, many, broken Eurasian men. Perhaps my writings can be a lighthouse to them, in the dark seas they will be forced to navigate alone. Perhaps not all will have to crash against the jagged, cutting rocks like me.
Some of us are beyond redemption. Some of us will always have a Eurasian face, staring back at them in the mirror. Some of us will never be able to look into the eyes of another human, for it too is a mirror in which we see our Eurasian faces. I can’t endure being around other humans anymore. It is not just because of who they are. But because of who I’m. I know they shall see a Eurasian in me. And whatever they may do or say, they have hurt me enough by seeing my Eurasian face. And all the pain and burdens that comes with it. I faked happiness in 2011 when I wrote this. I would have been one of the happy, well-adjusted, perky Hapas, you skeptics claim to have seen in the real world. I would be checked off in the category of Happy Hapas. But I can’t fake a smile and laugh anymore. There is only my Eurasian truth. I didn’t want my life and death to be defined by Hapaness. But its crystal clear to me now, that I wouldn’t be here dying, if I wasn’t Eurasian. So I might as well tell the truth as a dying man. There is no point lying to myself with my least breath. I’m a Eurasian, and this has killed me.