More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
“Can you really be a drunk Cambo without blasting Mariah Carey?”
“Steal her money and then redistribute it to everyone as, like, reparations.
Old white guys fill out online forms and brides are Fedex-ed to them!”
“Being rich has fucked with people’s heads.
Like, do you think our parents had ‘anxieties’ when they lived through the genocide? No, they worried about fucking surviving.”
Cambodians, we never let ourselves enjoy life. It is always thinking on the past, worrying for the future.”
Someone had made cognac-Gatorade margaritas,
trying to make Mom feel better, cooking her, like, the worst food ever, like those grilled cheeses we microwaved?”
the math prodigy from our freshman dorm who had been, and probably still was, a white predator of Asian women.
My job was to teach rich kids with fake Adderall prescriptions how to be “socially conscious” at a private high school in Marin.
a lacrosse player in my previous class had equated using the N-word to the tone of liberals saying “conservative voter,”
this party’s in the gay capital of the world and straight incels are playing video games
being a hypocrite by letting a white predator colonize my rectum.
I had forgotten writing “I’m Cambodian” in my profile so that guys would stop asking me what I “am.”
he looked young the way older gay men do when they hit the gym twice a day, seven days a week, with monomaniacal drive.
It appalled me that he paid San Francisco rent only to play video games all day and night,
Where he got so much energy—in bed, in work, in life—remained a mystery to me.
“One of my aspirations is to disrupt the Khmer food industry with organic modifications.”
I thought of my sister, how she always knew exactly what she wanted at any given moment, down to a disturbing power to order off menus perfectly,
Everything is political.
Gay, Cambodian, and not even twenty-six, carrying in my body the aftermath of war, genocide, colonialism.
