“Alexa, play rosie by Rosé.”
I command the little blue orb in my bathroom as I step in to take the shower. I wash my hair letting the hot water hypnotize me as the music cascades in waves, dulling any thought I might have. I went to bed last night after binge-ing a comfort show. As I scroll through my feeds one last time before sleep claims me, the banner on TikTok is the last thing I register.
I start my day again, my fingers on auto mode pulling up TikTok only to be hit by the same popup. I switch over to Xiaohongsu. It is not the same. I give up, get up and make my way downstairs. As I talk with my mom, my IG stories exhort me to upload the last celeb picture I have on my phone. I comply as if by duty. My ability to multi task even impresses me.
We joke about the ban, only there is no joy in it. I look back at the last few months. There have been periods of intense euphoria as I desperately clung to the notion that there was a savior out there, one who can pull us out of this dystopia. Today, I realize the season finale of the US story is that the person fighting next to you is the supreme villain. There is no one coming to save us. It is us vs them. Us versus the politicians, the oligarchs, the wannabe masters.
I realize this superficial obsession with pretty things I have in the form of dramas, music and language is a coping mechanism. A way to escape what has been staring me in the face all this while. The reality feels too much so I seek refuge in unrealistic fantasy on screen. I delve into lyrics I cannot understand, relying on emotion and the unspoken to lift me up.
As every social media I use fills my feed with narratives they want to feed me, I passively gloss over and hope I am not being influenced. I actively curate the things I want to see. Pretty people, lovely stories, writerly friends, pop music. Yet, the task feels uphill with each refresh of the feed.
The album rosie ends. “Alexa, play Unfair by Felix” I command.
The next few years for me will be leaning into all the privilege I possess. It will be a time where I dissociate, dissolve and give into the delulu. It will be a period of shutting out everything that has the capacity to make me feel. It will be actively deluding myself into believing we will survive this. And by this I do not mean just the political theater but the world that is burning outside. For once, it is freeing to finally let go of the notion that there are places on earth that are better than others.
#Delulu is the #solulu.
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