Hey love. So, uh, what turns you on?
I’ve been reading a lot of mile-high club pr0n.
[inserts link of a white man/Asian flight attendant fucking in a plane]

Performance Documentation, 2021

Hey. So I hve a question…whats ur bra size??

Oh wow is that normal for an Asian grl?

You’re just so cute and shy, I really wanna cuddle with you.
I miss holding my ex after we’d finish up a night of bondage fucking to NIN.

What if it was just for a minute, would you let me?

Have you tried this Jackpot no hands thing?
[sends audio file]
You should try it. It really works... o///o

Do you ever masturbate?
Is sex before marriage, like, a taboo in your house?
I really want to find a sub to peg…

:shark: I miss you…
thinking about you in that corset you made…rawr.

You’re like the cross-section of smart Asian, cool Asian, and hot Asian, haha!

Let’s have another sleepover soon…
I’m willing to make the drive to see you!

Reflecting on existing in a body that doesn’t quite fit, and not only living in a female body, but a female Asian body – I’ve been working through gender and racial performativity in the everyday disempowered action of becoming smaller, staying quiet, head down, take it, take it, and what that does to a person.

The result is this meticulous and physical process, knees on the asphalt hyper-awareness of my movements that affects the material and produces an artifact.

Grabbing the binder and a shirt, I headed to the vanity mirror. I struggled to pull the tight spandex over my shoulders. My face flushed as I tried to yank it down over my boobs. Eventually, I wriggled it over my protruding chest and brought the rest of the material down over my stomach. Letting out a sigh, I adjusted the stiff material over my flesh until it didn’t look so lumpy.

I inspected the shape of myself, nodded in satisfaction, then slipped the soft cotton shirt over my head. As my eyes emerged from the dark grey of my boyfriend's shirt, I looked again. I turned to the side, my hand came up to pat my chest, and then—I felt a painful whoosh up my nose and my vision blurred. My lungs started to shake as I gazed at the mirror.

Watching the tears roll down, I laughed, teeth shining back at me.

“You should have known.” The reflection said.

“I should have known.” I squeezed out. The binder squeezed back.

Is it tender or painful? No.

Nipple discharge? No.

Redness, warmth? No.

Lots of little lumps? No.

Okay, probably not a cyst then.

What about Breast Cancer?

Hard or firm lump? Yes.

No pain? Yes.

Uh oh.