when i lived in los angeles, sanity came in the form of cruising up the PCH with my sunroof open and old school hip hop on blast. when midterms, bicoastal life, and ‘overachieving asian’ syndrome became too much bare, i’d escape to the chill of the pacific ocean and the sound of waves crashing against rocks 30 feet below. i’d pull over amidst a patch of straight asphalt and turn the engine off, bothered by nothing more than a mellow playlist and my own thoughts. it’d be so easy to lose myself while glancing at the shimmering field above me… my mind would wander, the music would fade and i’d doze off easily. carelessly. peacefully. there were also the moments when i would inhale the fresh saltiness of the sea and wonder what it’d be like to walk forth and never come back. but as the cold sand crept between my toes, my senses would be shocked back to reality. i’d always think of my parents and their sacrifices for my sister and i. their hard work, their dedication, their support, their love. their devastation at knowing how easily i gave up on it all. i never enjoyed the tear-fogged drives back to reality, but i understood their necessity and appreciated their reminder of mortality.