My first encounter with nausea

2023-03-23

I believe it was 2017 summer, 1st year college when I was invited by my friend to a local fireworks festival. It was a tamely weathered day. The festival took place across the city in the East side, where I would travel to weekly for Japanese school. It particularly held dearly to my heart since I’ve attended for 20+ years, essentially dedicated my entire life up until that point despite my friends no longer show up, I’ve somehow kept the motivation to sustain this rather small community. That said, the East side is a familiar yet foreign place sincey mom would drive there. Actually stepping foot outside of the school was something I’ve never done until that day. It paralleled the nature of the rural-esque community that I was a part of, everybody knew each other, and the young will have the yearly fallout post grade-8. People come and go and I got to see all of it. It was the only childhood memory that I could properly grasp onto.

We met up at dusk. The group consisted of me, my friend, and 2 others that didn’t know each other, so our relationship dynamic orbited that one friend. The festival itself was pleasant, nothing notable happened other than rolling blunts for the first time (I’ve never smoked nor did I smoke that day). It would pass 9PM and we wandered around the neighbourhood at night, just talking and buying the last slices of pizza and messing around school playgrounds like the college kids that we were.

The clock hit 12PM. We said our goodbyes and everyone dispersed. Crucially however, everyone were locals; they lived in the neighbourhood except me. What stopped me from asking to stay over someone’s place is the fact that I didn’t want to. I stood there alone in the eerily silent roads glowing in the warm orange streetlights. The silence was not that of a silence that I’ve experienced before, no cars or people in sight, it was only me in this ethereal dimension. The transit service has stopped long before, so I had until morning to hang around this place. I wandered for god knows however many hours, looking at the roads that I’ve passed countless times since I was a child, feeling a weird sense of absurdity that I’ve in fact have never walked around here like this. It has always been flashes of scenery from inside my mom’s car.

College was..indifferent for me. Other than the great stress that caused me to flare up my antisocial behaviour, which ended up being severe ADHD according to my doctor (diagnosed 2 years after graduation), the people around me felt odd from the start so I always sustained a social life outside of college. Days like these felt more grounded, I felt like I had a sense of temporality and place as being, unlike college which I felt I saw everything from an outsiders perspective. Things were off, the people were good people with good intentions, but I never really connected, something was off, including myself. Not in a pretentious way either, I felt people had a good grasp of self while I couldn't articulate even the most fundamental of being. As Mishima wrote, this self awareness is not intellect, it's insecurity.

I eventually decided to pay the school a visit. No reason, just wanted to. And as if this uncanniness emitted from the school itself, as I approached it the feeling became stronger and stronger. I eventually stood right in front of it. The school was particularly brutalist with a giant chimney erecting from the centre. The finesse in the architecture was completely shrouded by the darkness and only the silhouette of an oppressing strip of wall stood. I also stood facing it, looking at this building and this particular moment was when I truly encountered nausea.

I think most people would have the experience of visiting a school at night, whether it be a school concert or a sleepover or any special occasion but that is still a partial experience to the utter loneliness that I’ve felt. It was far more than that. I felt terrified by this monument that held all my warm fuzzy memories now turned into this oppressive immovable object towering over me. I felt fascinated that environments could reveal itself into something so different. I felt melancholic that the former glory of the community has faded and I could only see the downfall of it in the upcoming years. It wasn’t negative per se, just powerful and terribly uncanny, that’s the best I could describe it as. It felt like a record player suddenly stopping, and the faint echos of the music can still be heard. It’s definitely there, but if the source ceases to exist, do the echos still truly count as existence of it? I stood regardless for what could have been for an eternity, observing and basking in this emotion that is so unexplainable that I feel my career as an artist will be to describe that moment’s feelings. I've encountered similar feelings ever since through abandoned buildings and whatnot, but it never came close to that particular night.

I grew tired and laid down at the foot of one of the trees. I didn’t intend of going to sleep but before I knew it, I woke up at 8PM. I was confused for a while, trying to figure out where I was until I eventually recollected everything that happed that night. I stood once more in the same spot, this time the morning rays revealing the familiar scenery that I’ve seen weekly for all my life. It was particularly beautiful. But this time it was brief, I quickly started walking towards the subway station. One last glance at the school. It was still there. I felt a bit relieved by that fact for some reason. Then I went home.