DATE
4/8/25
written by
Xiaoxin Sun
TIME
5:20PM
LOCATION
Oakland, CA
题外话 #5. XY来了 / My Friend's Here
DATE
4/8/25
written by
Xiaoxin Sun
TIME
5:20PM
LOCATION
Oakland, CA
题外话 #5. XY来了 / My Friend's Here
DATE
4/8/25
written by
Xiaoxin Sun
TIME
5:20PM
LOCATION
Oakland, CA
题外话 #5. XY来了 / My Friend's Here
Xy是武汉人。之前在某706活动认识的，是有人在群里约大家一起去亚洲艺术博物馆、我有点好奇，就去了。我当时看了一圈完全不感兴趣、也不在乎这些国宝多么珍贵、怎么就流落到这些人手里了。虽然刚刚转念一想，这可能是它们更好的归宿，总比砸了、毁了的强。
当时完全不认识我的她，问我啥想法，我说没想法、我比较喜欢当代艺术。她不认识我、却直接劈头盖脸的，那你来干嘛。我一边心里想，厉害、竟然如此直接，一般人看我这脸色都不敢说啥。我一边想，这人感觉不是普通人，一边表面上假装很冷静的解释：我确实不太懂文物古物、中国历史之类的，看不太懂，只是好奇过来逛逛，今天博物馆免费。她好像不满意我的回答，撇了撇嘴，没多说什么，转身就走。我心想，我想多知道关于这个人的一些事。我连忙追上去，问，那你觉得呢？
其实我完全不记得她说了什么，我只记得有一定的见地、但不太理解。于是尝试把话题往我熟悉一点的、了解一点的领域拉。我也不记得我到底问了她什么，也不记得她回了什么，但结果就是，我当时觉得，我还得见她一次。后来就加了她微信，慢慢就熟了。原来她是某厂某音乐app界面设计者。听上去还挺牛逼的，但她并不关心这个职业，每次都轻描淡写。她喜欢画画，最近喜欢用midjourney用各种各样的prompts反复的调试一幅图，满意之后发ig。
我看了她的ig，我很impressed。非常强烈的个人审美和偏好，我还没看到任何人把ai使到这个程度。虽然现在想想，我也把chatgpt给使到了一定程度、都快赶上电影了。那段时间我还挺忙的，虽然现在不记得具体在忙什么、可能很愚蠢的一些事情。她一直想从某厂离职，离开硅谷、去外面的世界生活一段时间。去年4月份，她终于达成了这个心愿，直到昨天回来湾区之前，她一直在半旅居的状态。因为某些原因，她需要回美国不到一个月，也不是很方便租房，我们就直接让她住我们家了。
见到朋友还是很开心的，当然要大聊特聊。从吃午饭到现在已经连续聊了4小时了，她都聊困了，已经去补觉倒时差了，我才开始写这篇题外话。
我们聊了很多，聊她在地中海、英国、泰国、葡萄牙、西班牙的体验，我本来对这些地方一点兴趣没有，听她说了之后居然很想去看看，是我之前完全没了解过的视角。涉及个人隐私、不展开说。我们还聊了她朋友去土耳其看到那边穆斯林女性的生活状态，以及如果你从出生那天到去世那天都被裹在黑袍里、接受既定路线、奉献自己给神，这样的生命是值得的吗？以及，如果人生从出生到死亡都是pain，还不被允许自我了结，这样的人生是值得的吗？
我的结论是，对我来说：值得，而且应该挺值的。这虽然是不同寻常的使用生命的方式，但还有什么比用一生的痛苦来证明你对某信念的虔诚拥护更纯粹、更简单、更容易执行呢。我会死，但我不怕死。因为我早就知道，剧情是如何的、然而我仍然选择继续，因为我是神的孩子、阿拉的孩子，我爱他。
裹在黑袍里听起来很安全、我喜欢。我可以一直在我的频道里，安全、稳定、熟悉。我不需要你告诉我，我有问题、我不对、我需要改变、我得找医生。Wait，也许这真的是错的。是吗？我不觉得。并不是只有开心是对的、快乐是对的，痛也不是错的，只是不同的表达方式。
Xy是武汉人。之前在某706活动认识的，是有人在群里约大家一起去亚洲艺术博物馆、我有点好奇，就去了。我当时看了一圈完全不感兴趣、也不在乎这些国宝多么珍贵、怎么就流落到这些人手里了。虽然刚刚转念一想，这可能是它们更好的归宿，总比砸了、毁了的强。
当时完全不认识我的她，问我啥想法，我说没想法、我比较喜欢当代艺术。她不认识我、却直接劈头盖脸的，那你来干嘛。我一边心里想，厉害、竟然如此直接，一般人看我这脸色都不敢说啥。我一边想，这人感觉不是普通人，一边表面上假装很冷静的解释：我确实不太懂文物古物、中国历史之类的，看不太懂，只是好奇过来逛逛，今天博物馆免费。她好像不满意我的回答，撇了撇嘴，没多说什么，转身就走。我心想，我想多知道关于这个人的一些事。我连忙追上去，问，那你觉得呢？
其实我完全不记得她说了什么，我只记得有一定的见地、但不太理解。于是尝试把话题往我熟悉一点的、了解一点的领域拉。我也不记得我到底问了她什么，也不记得她回了什么，但结果就是，我当时觉得，我还得见她一次。后来就加了她微信，慢慢就熟了。原来她是某厂某音乐app界面设计者。听上去还挺牛逼的，但她并不关心这个职业，每次都轻描淡写。她喜欢画画，最近喜欢用midjourney用各种各样的prompts反复的调试一幅图，满意之后发ig。
我看了她的ig，我很impressed。非常强烈的个人审美和偏好，我还没看到任何人把ai使到这个程度。虽然现在想想，我也把chatgpt给使到了一定程度、都快赶上电影了。那段时间我还挺忙的，虽然现在不记得具体在忙什么、可能很愚蠢的一些事情。她一直想从某厂离职，离开硅谷、去外面的世界生活一段时间。去年4月份，她终于达成了这个心愿，直到昨天回来湾区之前，她一直在半旅居的状态。因为某些原因，她需要回美国不到一个月，也不是很方便租房，我们就直接让她住我们家了。
见到朋友还是很开心的，当然要大聊特聊。从吃午饭到现在已经连续聊了4小时了，她都聊困了，已经去补觉倒时差了，我才开始写这篇题外话。
我们聊了很多，聊她在地中海、英国、泰国、葡萄牙、西班牙的体验，我本来对这些地方一点兴趣没有，听她说了之后居然很想去看看，是我之前完全没了解过的视角。涉及个人隐私、不展开说。我们还聊了她朋友去土耳其看到那边穆斯林女性的生活状态，以及如果你从出生那天到去世那天都被裹在黑袍里、接受既定路线、奉献自己给神，这样的生命是值得的吗？以及，如果人生从出生到死亡都是pain，还不被允许自我了结，这样的人生是值得的吗？
我的结论是，对我来说：值得，而且应该挺值的。这虽然是不同寻常的使用生命的方式，但还有什么比用一生的痛苦来证明你对某信念的虔诚拥护更纯粹、更简单、更容易执行呢。我会死，但我不怕死。因为我早就知道，剧情是如何的、然而我仍然选择继续，因为我是神的孩子、阿拉的孩子，我爱他。
裹在黑袍里听起来很安全、我喜欢。我可以一直在我的频道里，安全、稳定、熟悉。我不需要你告诉我，我有问题、我不对、我需要改变、我得找医生。Wait，也许这真的是错的。是吗？我不觉得。并不是只有开心是对的、快乐是对的，痛也不是错的，只是不同的表达方式。
Xy was born in Wuhan. We met at a 706 event before—someone invited people in the group chat to go to the Asian Art Museum. I was a bit curious, so I went. I looked around and wasn’t interested at all—I didn’t care how precious these national treasures were, or how they ended up in other people’s hands. Although now that I think about it, maybe this isa better home for them—at least better than being smashed or destroyed.
Back then, she didn’t know me at all. She asked what I thought. I said I didn’t really have any thoughts—I prefer contemporary art. She didn’t know me, yet went straight in with, “Then why did you come?” I was like: damn she’s direct. Most people wouldn’t say anything seeing my expression like that. At the same time, I thought: this person doesn’t feel ordinary. Outwardly I stayed calm and explained: I really don’t know much about ancient artifacts, relics, or Chinese history—I don’t really understand them. I just came out of curiosity, and the museum was free today.
She didn’t seem satisfied with my answer, curled her lip, didn’t say much, turned and left.I thought to myself: I want to know more about this person.I hurried to catch up and asked, “So what do you think?” Honestly, I don’t remember what she said—I just remember she had some insight, but I didn’t quite understand it. So I tried to shift the conversation toward areas I was more familiar with. I also don’t remember what I asked or what she answered. All I remember is thinking: I need to see her again.
Later, I added her on WeChat, and we slowly got to know each other. Turns out she was a UI designer for a music app at a certain tech company. Sounds impressive, but she doesn’t really care about that job—she always brushes it off. She likes drawing. Lately she’s been into using Midjourney—experimenting with all kinds of prompts, tweaking an image repeatedly until she’s satisfied, and then posting it to Instagram. I looked at her IG and was impressed. Such a strong personal aesthetic and clear preferences—I haven’t seen anyone use AI to this extent before. Though now that I think about it, I’ve also pushed ChatGPT to a certain degree—almost like how I extract everything I can from movies.
That period, I was quite busy—though I don’t remember what exactly, probably some stupid stuff. She had been wanting to quit her job at that tech company and leave Silicon Valley—to go live out in the world for a while. Last April, she finally made it happen. Until yesterday when she came back to the Bay Area, she’d been in a semi-nomadic state. Because of some circumstances, she had to return to the U.S. for less than a month, and renting wasn’t convenient—so we just let her stay at our place.
It’s always great seeing a friend, of course we had a lot to catch up on. From lunch until now, we’ve been talking non-stop for four hours—she’s so tired she’s napping to fight the jet lag, and that’s when I finally started writing this little side note. We talked about a lot—her experiences in the Mediterranean, the UK, Thailand, Portugal, Spain. I used to have zero interest in those places, but hearing her stories made me really want to visit.We also talked about how her friends experience of visiting a muslim country, and seeing the living conditions of the women there. It was hard for her to comprehend. She wondered, if she was wrapped in a black robe from the day she was born to the day she die, follow a predetermined path, dedicating herself to God, how would she feel? I asked the question of, let’s just hypothetically speaking say that life is painful. Let’s say, she’s going to be in pain. If you life from birth to death is all pain, and you’re not even allowed to end it yourself—is such a life worth living? I’m not sure if she formed her opinions by the end of our conversations. For me though, I’ve arrived at the conclusion that life itself is a form of self-expression, even if it’s in pain, it’s still worth it.
Happiness isn’t the only thing that’s “right.” Joy isn’t the only thing that’s valid. Pain isn’t wrong. It’s just another form of expression.
Xy was born in Wuhan. We met at a 706 event before—someone invited people in the group chat to go to the Asian Art Museum. I was a bit curious, so I went. I looked around and wasn’t interested at all—I didn’t care how precious these national treasures were, or how they ended up in other people’s hands. Although now that I think about it, maybe this isa better home for them—at least better than being smashed or destroyed.
Back then, she didn’t know me at all. She asked what I thought. I said I didn’t really have any thoughts—I prefer contemporary art. She didn’t know me, yet went straight in with, “Then why did you come?” I was like: damn she’s direct. Most people wouldn’t say anything seeing my expression like that. At the same time, I thought: this person doesn’t feel ordinary. Outwardly I stayed calm and explained: I really don’t know much about ancient artifacts, relics, or Chinese history—I don’t really understand them. I just came out of curiosity, and the museum was free today.
She didn’t seem satisfied with my answer, curled her lip, didn’t say much, turned and left.I thought to myself: I want to know more about this person.I hurried to catch up and asked, “So what do you think?” Honestly, I don’t remember what she said—I just remember she had some insight, but I didn’t quite understand it. So I tried to shift the conversation toward areas I was more familiar with. I also don’t remember what I asked or what she answered. All I remember is thinking: I need to see her again.
Later, I added her on WeChat, and we slowly got to know each other. Turns out she was a UI designer for a music app at a certain tech company. Sounds impressive, but she doesn’t really care about that job—she always brushes it off. She likes drawing. Lately she’s been into using Midjourney—experimenting with all kinds of prompts, tweaking an image repeatedly until she’s satisfied, and then posting it to Instagram. I looked at her IG and was impressed. Such a strong personal aesthetic and clear preferences—I haven’t seen anyone use AI to this extent before. Though now that I think about it, I’ve also pushed ChatGPT to a certain degree—almost like how I extract everything I can from movies.
That period, I was quite busy—though I don’t remember what exactly, probably some stupid stuff. She had been wanting to quit her job at that tech company and leave Silicon Valley—to go live out in the world for a while. Last April, she finally made it happen. Until yesterday when she came back to the Bay Area, she’d been in a semi-nomadic state. Because of some circumstances, she had to return to the U.S. for less than a month, and renting wasn’t convenient—so we just let her stay at our place.
It’s always great seeing a friend, of course we had a lot to catch up on. From lunch until now, we’ve been talking non-stop for four hours—she’s so tired she’s napping to fight the jet lag, and that’s when I finally started writing this little side note. We talked about a lot—her experiences in the Mediterranean, the UK, Thailand, Portugal, Spain. I used to have zero interest in those places, but hearing her stories made me really want to visit.We also talked about how her friends experience of visiting a muslim country, and seeing the living conditions of the women there. It was hard for her to comprehend. She wondered, if she was wrapped in a black robe from the day she was born to the day she die, follow a predetermined path, dedicating herself to God, how would she feel? I asked the question of, let’s just hypothetically speaking say that life is painful. Let’s say, she’s going to be in pain. If you life from birth to death is all pain, and you’re not even allowed to end it yourself—is such a life worth living? I’m not sure if she formed her opinions by the end of our conversations. For me though, I’ve arrived at the conclusion that life itself is a form of self-expression, even if it’s in pain, it’s still worth it.
Happiness isn’t the only thing that’s “right.” Joy isn’t the only thing that’s valid. Pain isn’t wrong. It’s just another form of expression.
Xy was born in Wuhan. We met at a 706 event before—someone invited people in the group chat to go to the Asian Art Museum. I was a bit curious, so I went. I looked around and wasn’t interested at all—I didn’t care how precious these national treasures were, or how they ended up in other people’s hands. Although now that I think about it, maybe this isa better home for them—at least better than being smashed or destroyed.
Back then, she didn’t know me at all. She asked what I thought. I said I didn’t really have any thoughts—I prefer contemporary art. She didn’t know me, yet went straight in with, “Then why did you come?” I was like: damn she’s direct. Most people wouldn’t say anything seeing my expression like that. At the same time, I thought: this person doesn’t feel ordinary. Outwardly I stayed calm and explained: I really don’t know much about ancient artifacts, relics, or Chinese history—I don’t really understand them. I just came out of curiosity, and the museum was free today.
She didn’t seem satisfied with my answer, curled her lip, didn’t say much, turned and left.I thought to myself: I want to know more about this person.I hurried to catch up and asked, “So what do you think?” Honestly, I don’t remember what she said—I just remember she had some insight, but I didn’t quite understand it. So I tried to shift the conversation toward areas I was more familiar with. I also don’t remember what I asked or what she answered. All I remember is thinking: I need to see her again.
Later, I added her on WeChat, and we slowly got to know each other. Turns out she was a UI designer for a music app at a certain tech company. Sounds impressive, but she doesn’t really care about that job—she always brushes it off. She likes drawing. Lately she’s been into using Midjourney—experimenting with all kinds of prompts, tweaking an image repeatedly until she’s satisfied, and then posting it to Instagram. I looked at her IG and was impressed. Such a strong personal aesthetic and clear preferences—I haven’t seen anyone use AI to this extent before. Though now that I think about it, I’ve also pushed ChatGPT to a certain degree—almost like how I extract everything I can from movies.
That period, I was quite busy—though I don’t remember what exactly, probably some stupid stuff. She had been wanting to quit her job at that tech company and leave Silicon Valley—to go live out in the world for a while. Last April, she finally made it happen. Until yesterday when she came back to the Bay Area, she’d been in a semi-nomadic state. Because of some circumstances, she had to return to the U.S. for less than a month, and renting wasn’t convenient—so we just let her stay at our place.
It’s always great seeing a friend, of course we had a lot to catch up on. From lunch until now, we’ve been talking non-stop for four hours—she’s so tired she’s napping to fight the jet lag, and that’s when I finally started writing this little side note. We talked about a lot—her experiences in the Mediterranean, the UK, Thailand, Portugal, Spain. I used to have zero interest in those places, but hearing her stories made me really want to visit.We also talked about how her friends experience of visiting a muslim country, and seeing the living conditions of the women there. It was hard for her to comprehend. She wondered, if she was wrapped in a black robe from the day she was born to the day she die, follow a predetermined path, dedicating herself to God, how would she feel? I asked the question of, let’s just hypothetically speaking say that life is painful. Let’s say, she’s going to be in pain. If you life from birth to death is all pain, and you’re not even allowed to end it yourself—is such a life worth living? I’m not sure if she formed her opinions by the end of our conversations. For me though, I’ve arrived at the conclusion that life itself is a form of self-expression, even if it’s in pain, it’s still worth it.
Happiness isn’t the only thing that’s “right.” Joy isn’t the only thing that’s valid. Pain isn’t wrong. It’s just another form of expression.
Feel free to share if you find this helpful
Feel free to share if you find this helpful
Feel free to share if you find this helpful