Blog – May Ling Su

Yay, October!

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May Ling Su in orange stripe thigh-high stockings

My favorite month of the year! Except it always feels like it goes too fast. Like today. I wasted the entire day doing boring business in the morning, because it’s a Monday and the first of the month and the furnace was acting up and furnace-things need to be dealt with before winter comes so I can keep prancing around my house in skimpy clothes they way I like to. Aside from the most amazing seafood bun (pronounce boon) I had for lunch, during which time seemed to stop, the rest of the day flew by so quickly. I stopped in at a thrift shop, flirted with a big black man who started out a promising prospect before he started talking about his wife and made a hasty exit, so all I came home with was a parasol. Now it’s the end of the 1st and the beginning of the 2nd. Slow down, October!

I know the rest of the month will be just as swift. My birthday is in 5 days. I can’t wait to pose for my annual birthday nude 👀. I’m in excellent shape. I’ve been hiking and climbing mountains lately. I plan on hiking some more before it gets too cold. The leaves have started to turn. Pretty soon everything will be red and orange. I love the changing seasons. It’s like being surrounded by flames just before everything turns to ice.

Oktoberfest is also going on through the end of the week. The end of last week had me crying in my beer 🍺 at the end of the day, but a hike over the weekend and spending time at the top of a mountain looking out at the Atlantic Ocean revived me. I still like beer, do you?

Of course I can’t write about October without the climax of the month, Halloween. I haven’t yet decided what I’m going to dress up as, have you? What do you plan to be on Halloween?

I tend to dress up in different costumes throughout the month. I’ll be posting photos as I do, I promise.

Love, Lust, & Liberty,

P.S. Make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Hit this to send me a present. 🎁

Forgive me for staying away so often so long.

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May Ling Su and flowers

To wander in the fields of flowers,
pull the thorns from your own heart.

– Rumi

I have demons in my closet and they speak to me. They speak truths so true they wedge thorns so deep in my heart I reach longingly for rope. I huddle under hanging clothes and bury my head between my knees. I am worse than worthless. I am the destructor of all potential, the black cloud that sucks the marrow out of joy, the hand that turns gold into shit. I hide from you because I am ugly. No one wants to see me. If I don’t breathe… If I don’t make a sound… If I could un-exist without fanfare, without drama, without ultimate harm on the people I love.

Out of all the painful truths, there is that toxic lie: that I am alone in this world, that no one cares, that I can swallow up all my demons and destroy them by destroying me. If you understand what I’m going through, then you must recognize that lie woven into the truths.

This is me coming out of my closet. I am airing it out. These demons will have to speak to me in the light of day just as well as they speak to me in the dark. These thorns in my heart, I don’t know how to pull them out yet, but I will let pain teach me compassion.

Join me. Let’s not be alone together. You are needed.

May Ling Su and flowers

Love, Lust, & Liberty,

America the Brave and the Free

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America the Brave and the Free First Amendment Freedom of Speech

I remember the day I became an American. I stood with a group of strangers from all walks of life and over the world. Together, we each raised our right hand and recited the Oath of Allegiance. I found myself holding back tears and swallowing down a lump in my throat as we collectively sang the Star Spangled Banner. Our journeys thus far and our dreams of the future shone in our eyes. This is the promised land for the brave and the free.

While watching fireworks last night I thought about that song again. I thought about that flag that “was still there” despite the rockets and the bombs. Quite possibly that flag was singed, torn, tattered with holes, but it endured. And strangely enough that ratty old flag inspires me to keep going when the going gets tough.

Reaching for the American Dream isn’t easy. No one hands it out on a silver platter, especially not to a woman of color. I’ve had to compromise myself. I have battle scars. I’m damaged goods. But every day I get up even when I feel like it would be easier to crawl into a hole and die.

Freedom is risky. It’s safer to go along with the herd, keep your head down, do what’s expected of you. Freedom of speech means speaking up when there is injustice. Freedom of expression means being open to criticism, opposition, and shaming. Freedom requires courage.

Dare to be free, my little munchkins. You can come out now.

Love, Lust, and Liberty,

Just a stupid chink’s opinion

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Have you seen this?

A white woman yelled “Go back to China!” at an asian man on the street. He turned around and yelled back at her, “I was born in America!” The asian man happens to be New York Times deputy Metro editor, Michael Luo, who then wrote an open letter to the offending woman. He also started a twitter conversation about Asian-Americans’ experience of racism, #thisis2016.

Most of it sounds like petty playground taunting. The fact that an asian man can confront his abuser and write about it later on the New York Times shows he has power. Had it been a black man doing the same thing, he would have been shot dead on the sidewalk before he even opened his mouth. Had it been a Muslim doing the same thing, s/he would have been labeled a terrorist and taken away, never to be seen on the face of the earth. I’m exaggerating, of course, but not by much and you know it.

I do have a problem with people assuming “victim” status. I’m not talking about real assault here. I’m talking about words thrown about carelessly on one hand, and hypersensitivity to certain keywords on the other. On the playground, if you let a bully see your weakness, the bully wins. Remember, the best defense is offensive. Here are a few suggestions for snappy come-backs to racist comments:

People talk “ching chang chong” around you? Don’t act all hurt. “Ching chang chong” back at them. Incessantly, like you’re their new best friend. “You-me-ha-ha!” I’m pretty sure it’ll weird them out enough to stop, or if they have a sense of humor they’ll actually laugh at you and themselves and the whole situation in general.
Someone call you Bruce Lee? Say thanks, it’s an honor. The man is a god! Then whip out some karate chops. You don’t know karate? Just make shit up. Racists are stupid. They won’t know the difference.
Someone tell you your English is perfect? Say, “Thanks! Yours needs work.”
Someone ask about your slanted vagina? Say, “Yes, and I’m another slanted vagina you’ll never get to fuck.”
Someone tell you to go make chinese food? Take their money to go.
Someone wants to kick your butt back to China? Kick their butt back to Ireland. Not from Ireland? Who cares? I’m not from China!

See what I’m getting at? Asians can out-racist the racists. We’ve had plenty of experience. East Asians think they’re better than South and South-East Asians. Chinese, Japanese, and Koreans don’t like each other either. Singaporeans and Hong Kong Chinese hate Filipinos.

If there is anything #thisis2016 has shown me, it’s that Asian Americans are racist against Asian-Asians. They’re saying, “How dare you lump me in with immigrants and international students who don’t speak English well or at all! How dare you compare me to low life sex workers, maids, nurses, delivery boys, cooks… I’m better than them! I’m American!!!”

I’m a naturalized American citizen originally from the Philippines. I’m a college graduate and my American English is impeccable. But you know what? I put on a mock Asian accent and race play with white men. Why? Because it’s naughty. Because I like Asians, yes, including the whores, the maids, the nurses, the delivery boys, the cooks… I am them and they are me. Because calling myself racist slurs does not threaten my racial dignity any more than being a sexual submissive threatens my feminism.

How does your hard white cock feel about that? Love me long time, Joe?

May Ling Su asian on the menu

Love, Lust, and Liberty,