the desk · northern thailand · 2 july 2025
From Northern Thailand
Written from his grandmother's house; his grandfather, the move to Brisbane, and the cost of a year spent on everything but time.
It's currently the 2nd of July, and I'm currently writing this from my maternal grandmother's house in northern Thailand. It's a gloomy twilight as of right now. I'm alone. Having thought I needed time to 'rest', I decided on not going to my extended family's reunion dinner. I haven't seen them in a year. Reflecting on the past few months, I've realised how much I've neglected the most valuable resource known to man—time.
This house—this city I'm staying in—it isn't my hometown. My family moved to this city after my grandfather was diagnosed with cancer. I was always his favourite—he often called me a nickname meaning 'smart', and is by far one of the people I wish I could see again—just for one time. I don't remember enough about him to describe him in a detailed manner, but I do remember him always being a guiding figure—always championing me to follow what I love and be the best version of me. I miss those days. I miss when everything was so wondrous and brilliant, when life seemed to have no adversity—when time stood still in the way it does for a child.
I spent my formative years growing up in my family's ancestral home in a small railroad town—surrounded by family. I never had any friends, but that wasn't an issue with the 6 cousins and warm, familiar shopfronts, market vendors, and people—who I always addressed as 'aunties' or 'uncles'.
All that changed when my grandfather got diagnosed with cancer and passed away. I suddenly moved to Brisbane, Australia—a city so unfamiliar to me, and had my first traumatic events—in a way, even the most insignificant things can be traumatic to a child. This move was more or less the root cause of my inability to socialise—with my parents being unfamiliar with the language and having no connections here, and with my young self not being accustomed to the individualistic values, attitudes, and beliefs of the Western world. Even though I'm a third generation Australian—my paternal grandmother moved here—and I was taught fluent English and not even taught how to speak fluent Thai let alone read and write it—by far, that event moulded me from my joyous childhood self, to thr tattered yet still pushing on type of person I am today.
Over the past few months, time has been what I've wasted away. I've lost my position as a preeminent spokesman for the Brisbane music scene. I've realised that I'm not really all that much of a muso, which is fine, though I still want to be involved somehow. I've realised that trying to fit into a constructed 'alternative' subculture doesn't reflect who I am. At heart—I'm just a guy who happens to like rock and roll—and also happens to be not too far away from the stereotypical Asian kid who gets good grades. Learning about punk rock subculture has enabled me to embrace my individuality, learn about Western values, and overall progress and establish a position within Australian society. This adoption of a subculture instead of adoption of own values of course wasn't sustainable however, and I'm still trying to find and develop as a person—as all teenagers do.
Within the span of a year, and within that year, a few months, I have gone from an absolute nobody who would have been wasting away on this Earth into someone who found a false semblance of community (and got absolutely destroyed mentally because of it), and then went from that scene reject to becoming a person who has established a solid social circle, a regimented routine that has ensured academic success, and a strong willpower to succeed respectively.
While I have progressed significantly in the academic sector, the social sector and public relations sector has definitely lagged behind. It's a long story, but basically by pure coincidence and fate, I met my now-best friend while in the city. On the same day, a bunch of people just happened to be hanging out, and we hung out with them, and we formed a great friend group.
Well, Cyclone Alfred really ruined it, and the rainy weather in the months that followed led the friend group to rapidly disintegrate—apart from me and my best friend—who was dealing with some psychopathic shit caused by her ex-friend, which only added to the shit.
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