Ray Shabir's Blog

I’ve been thinking about my history with love lately—or rather, the intricate and oftentimes tumultuous relationships I had entangled myself with throughout time. I look at them now like how I would a photo album. I no longer wonder why some pictures faded more than others. I understood why they’re discolored. It’s always bittersweet when I look at them, but most of the time I feel okay. It was never a waste of time, for me—the years spent loving them, yearning for them...

IN

Giving a 24h ban on replying to people you’re mad at

Saying “I’m booked and busy” when you’re really not

Having time to reply right away, but still text “omg sorry just saw this!!”

Midday showers to fix your entire personality

Sending voice notes that are just sighs and ambient street noise

Having one dramatic crying session and calling it shadow work

Making at least three different savings account

Spending your birthday money on a expensive scented candles and a gay little cake

Curating gr...

We love at our best, often without asking if the person on the other end is capable of holding it. We cut ourselves open, stitching our weight into someone else’s hands, praying they’ll know what to do with it. And when they leave, we wrestle with an anger that loves us enough to protect us but not enough to chase after our ghosts.

This is a body of work written when the weight of love was the heaviest. A story told about the lingering dial tones and conversations that re...

IN

Going out with your third-tier friend

Sleeping early, like around 11 PM

Joining a book club and following through

A full half-day, thorough Sunday resets

“Abracadabra” by Lady Gaga music video

Buying more than one vinyl variant

Get on talking terms with your ex

OUT

Being nice without reservations

Talking too much about your crushes

Fucking your coworkers

Kopi Susu

Drinking on weekdays

Saying “Homies.”

Dear friend,

About 10 years ago, my mom accidentally threw out a stack of my Lady Gaga ma...

IN

Sleeping with the AC on but no blanket

Watching Criterion films but never finishing them

Loving your friends loudly

Grocery shopping like you're curating your feed

Not blocking your ex, just muting them

Pocari Sweat

"Miss Behaves" by Cece Natalie

White tank tops

Drinking red wine like it's a personality

Crying on your yoga mat

Watering your plants slowly while listening to voice notes

Journaling but not talking about it

OUT

Dances with tutorials longer than the dance

Complaining ...

Like many of you, I came out of the pandemic a different person. Being still while letting the days blur into weeks and months made each one feel heavier than the last. Coming out of that, one thing became clear: survival became the only measure of success. Not happiness, not fulfillment, but simply enduring. We measure time in years, but often times the metrics of such can’t be measured, when you’re too busy licking your wounds. It feels like I moved through 2020 to, let...

Like many of you, I came out of the pandemic a different person. Being still while letting the days blur into weeks and months made each one feel heavier than the last. Coming out of that, one thing became clear: survival became the only measure of success. Not happiness, not fulfillment, but simply enduring. We measure time in years, but often times the metrics of such can’t be measured, when you’re too busy licking your wounds. It feels like I moved through 2020 to, let...

It’s been months since you walked away, but I still haven’t cried about you. Whenever you come into mind, I can still feel my heart turning warm and blushing. For once, it’s nice of me — mature, maybe, to not resent you. I only miss you and think of you fondly. I think it’s because I’m already a different person now. I often wonder to myself if my last heartbreak forced me to change into someone else before I met you, or if with each new encounter,...

Last year I felt the hottest I’ve ever been. I was exercising, and eating at a very disciplined time. Every day I’d wake up and have my cup of black coffee, water my plants, do some work, exercise, walk out to my favorite food stall for lunch, do more work, or read my books, and then I would go out at night. From the outside looking in, I was operating a regiment that made it seem like I have my shit together. And I did, at least for a litt...

For the past two years or so, I felt parts of me were scattered among other people. I didn’t lose myself, but I did feel rearranged. Ever since I moved into my new place, I’ve been doing many things that reminded me of who I am. I’ve spent months finding things, moving things, cleaning things, planting things, learning things, exercising, and also, well, discarding things. For the first time in a long time, my things never moved around by themselves, and everything is exactly where I like t...