Agalia Tan

The paradox is that it takes discipline to stay open. Detachment is the easy reflex, like closing a window at the first sign of rain; it costs nothing once the latch is turned. Remaining receptive requires stamina, you must let experiences in without letting them wash you away, stay permeable enough to feel yet solid enough not to dissolve at every... See more

We mock Romanticism in theory yet consume it in bulk, binge-watching love stories, quoting torch-song lyrics, planning weekends around destination weddings. The posture is ironic, the appetite sentimental; we want to feel deeply but also to appear impervious, indulging the fantasy while keeping a cynical alibi in case anyone accuses us of believing... See more

Romanticism often compels us toward small, seemingly irrational gestures, acts of private theatre that make no sense on a spreadsheet yet much in the landscape of meaning: changing the restaurant you frequent because a conversation soured there; retiring a favourite dress worn on the night of an unforgivable quarrel; keeping an old métro ticket... See more

The warnings exist too: Narcissus, transfixed by his reflection, perished because he mistook self-regard for connection, an early parable about loving the mirror instead of the world. Pygmalion, carving the perfect statue and falling for it, reminds us that adoring our own projection can imprison us in a fantasy no real person could inhabit.... See more

Women especially learn to sand down their edges, keep enthusiasm in check; a tremor of feeling can be mistaken for a crack in authority. Even in friendships, declarations of affection are often softened with jokes or delivered as memes so no one risks sounding earnest. To say I missed you plainly instead of burying it in sarcasm is, under such... See more

Boys were told to harden up, girls to compose themselves, parents to keep private grief private. That training doesn’t vanish; it lingers as reflexive stoicism that often passes for professionalism.

To long for someone or something is to grant it weight beyond its immediate utility, to recognise meaning that cannot be monetised or replaced. Longing insists that not everything worth cherishing can be upgraded, delivered, or optimised.

Capitalism thrives on restlessness: it wants us curious enough to browse, dissatisfied enough to keep upgrading, but never so attached that we stop consuming. Romantic attachment, whether to a person, a city, a ritual, or a set of ideals, interrupts that cycle because it breeds loyalty, and loyalty is inefficient in a market that profits from... See more