Okay, indulge me please.
I am writing this as I’m taking a break from packing all my belongings in a large suitcase, seeing all the things I’ve accumulated over the past few years. I am moving out of my unit this end of April--the end of my two-year lease in this studio and a four-year stay in this building.
It’s strange and a bit surreal to see all my possessions unravel, the way my whole life is summarized by the objects and trinkets I've accumulated.
Before I begin to even delve into the many things that I feel lucky to have (which is not the intention of this post), I understand that it sounds as if I'm smug about the privilege that I have.
Of course, allow me to defend myself, and say that I mean it with utter humility, the way I just said how lucky I am.
However, I know full well that there is always that other layer of meaning, that unsaid message that is just underneath the statement: that there is an undeniable confluence of privilege that I have received, which is not readily available to the rest.
HELLO, MY NAME IS EVAN TAN.
I'm a writer and communications professional based in Manila, Philippines. Outside of my regular job, I like to travel, work out, volunteer, watch movies and plays, go to art galleries/ fairs and museums, read books, and eat vegetarian food.
More about me here.