#while the other cosplayers who were white and clearly not Asian

[tariah23]

Saying it here but nbs and whites need to read every last comment from black ppl on that post about fandom racism and their experiences.

[hiriajuu-suffering]

ACen debrief

I went into this feeling it's the Texas scene that's treated me so miserably, the Southern weeb community is generally reared with so much internalized conservatism that's clearly why I got ACen and not MomoCon, right? right? I don't necessarily need to romanticize being treated with less otherization, I just need to feel it.

But what makes me care for all the pathetically needy and unkempt creatures is the challenge working on them, the sense of accomplishment in knowing you pushed someone so well they started to fear just how much you could change them, in your view, for the better.

I think I was convinced I need to remake the "wrong type of Asian" panel that was so jarring I was a part of back in the day with just how much contempt a straight, cisgendered male of my heritage is looked at when he dares step outside of his native community: the unchangeables I carry around with me at work, in my hobby spaces, and my future in-laws still treating me like a delinquent teenager sneaking behind their backs to see their daughter just because I haven't been enough to help her grow a spine. We demonize fetishization so much, but if all these white, black, and hispanic otaku looked at race equitably within the Asian demographic, not putting the orientalist physiological perception as a pivot point of masculine idealization, maybe I'd have a chance in hell for being treated as anything more than a sexless object whose only value resides in his capital production: the way even my own race sees me.

Being a South Asian Muslim, you receive every negative that comes Asian typecasting while receiving, at best, the fringiest benefits of the identity in that you're on the in-crowd with other Asians but they never see you as worthy of crossing boundaries for. My late aunt chaired our local Asian Cultural Society and Chamber of Commerce and lamented just how little she could do in mitigating the fixed forms of self-segregation Asian communities practice when creating our own spaces in the west.

Working to set things right with my sister was a far bigger priority than anything I am at conventions. For the first time in decades, it feels as if we're getting back to having each other's backs like we used to back when our parents were treating us equally, equally negligent and tigerish, but equal nonetheless. Maybe I'm finally being forgiven for being so different, so weird, something she had to explain and keep her friends away from. Or maybe she just has too much life to deal with now to bully me anymore, who knows.

Maybe my issues have nothing to do with internalized prejudices and methodologies of discriminatory human attraction, maybe I'm just too thoughtful for all the headcases I try to adopt. Performing the Peaches song feels like an easier way to get an eye through the door than delivering a real message. TikTok attention span? Trying not to be ageist but holy hell does it feel like the entire unmarried drinking-age population has at least 70% less of the attention span than the demographic did prior to the pandemic. Only things I've seen that hold attention like that are Overwatch, Roblox, and Minecraft ... I still think all three are kinda cringe to be obsessed with.

Leaving all that behind, how did my ACen really go? Well, it was an escape. How likely was I to really find a persevering connection just by not being in the social hellscape of what I call "cowboy logistics" when it takes a significant amount of time commitment to develop a sense of friendship but impermanently. Can't hold much credence to the concept, but there was a lot of upside. Not having a con charge and working around some cosplayer's schedule who couldn't give a rat's ass about me was a nice change of pace. Can't help but be reminded of how alone I felt around my 30th, though. Damned if I do, damned if I don't, I suppose. Could just be fantasy to be treated as valued, more than what I'm able to provide for someone, but there's always hope - no matter how hollow it ends up being.

The most fun moments in any big event for me are when I got to sit down and talk to people, a big reason why I started paneling because it used to prompt a lot of great narrative in the 00's North American convention culture. My excessive optimism had me hope there would be a flame to be made readily available, I get this terribly dumb tendency being hyperromantic of putting amorous connections above platonic ones, but dismissing some of the platonic ones for naught just because I didn't get flirted with is my misanthropy talking and I have to remember that. There was something nice about the lack of pressure, not that I'm treated as desirable with any regularity.

If there is opportunity for me outside of where I am, I need to put less stock in if I seek it out, it's bound to happen. The notion itself is true enough, but making it an objective devalues its capacity to permeate. What happened the last two times was clinging to a breath with how fleeting there was no choice for it to be. I was always going to be left behind when I prompt growth because I hadn't been either of their first choices and accepting I never could've made myself be will let me have the peace for myself I need. It's just tough having to play demiromantic when you're on the other end of the spectrum just because my nature is to gravitate towards those who need the most help, only advancing otherwise when clearly prompted by the other party. I'm sure I encountered a lot of could-be interests this past weekend, but I always keep safe distance until I get normatively obvious indication the feeling is mutual...admittedly a high bar, even for an empath.

I need to focus on myself. I need to stop trapping myself in the mindset of: if I'm not helping someone, I'm nothing of value. I need get back the ability to just exist without needing to produce an outcome. I think that's something I lost in the process of healing a decade ago, just being comfortable existing for myself alone since my pleasure has become inconsequential, more of my decision calculus being tied to the avoidance of pain and capability rather than hedonistic ideations in their own right. Heck, that's probably why I still won't have gone to Japan by the end of 30, too much of my social behavior being risk-averse.

There's a reason Haruhi Suzumiya hasn't been supplanted after all these years as the fictional character I feel the most in my soul. Life doesn't feel worth living vulnerably unless it's truly interesting. What's interesting about a person who's basically been stuck in Texas his whole life? What's interesting about a late millennial struggling to juggle finishing graduate school while getting enough hours out of work to live on? What's interesting about a competitor that never seems to find himself in the conversation of respected? What's interesting about the life I have now? Being 30 and no prospect for a marriage materializing in any reasonable timeline? Being touted as someone great to on the side of but easily discarded? Even just being a good person but constantly judged for his otherizing appearance? Something has to happening in my life for me to feel alive, something has to be changing, or I don't feel much desire to carry on for my own sake alone.

In a lot of respects, my behavior is a walking paradox. I'm hyperromantic so I restrain myself by treating everyone as demisexual; I'm a schizromantic so no sane mind could be anything other than a romantic to me; I'm a recipromantic because every time I gave more than was given to me, I got betrayed and gutted for whomever I trusted just to take without remorse. I look at humanity with disdain yet put all my principles into improving the human experience. I pride myself on never depending on anyone yet I'm considered a nuisance and the black sheep of my own family. I'm in an upbringing and position of privilege yet I barely have the faculties to feed myself most days.

Well, I have nothing of particular note happening until the end of the month. Play the cards I'm given, test if I can win with them. My ethical impulses force others' actions to be how I extract value out of the world, it's so dismal when not a soul acts towards you. I miss the feeling of receiving unfounded faith, maybe I never really had it at all.

Well hey, at least I know now Chicago can be a place of comfort as long as I use some discretion. Now to just make said comfort something inherently desirable to return to.