I've been having a thought lately. It's been running circles in my head and it won't come out. Who's to say it ever will? That's the work of a lifetime, I've found: to make it all come out. That's why a lot of artists kill themselves.
Cowards.
Gonna make it all come out before I get out of here.
I think I've given up on happy. It's a race. I've never been much of a runner (I have a foot condition). I'll have to settle for purpose over happy, if I can have that. Most days I fear I'll fail at that too.
I confuse the two, happiness and purpose. If I'm happy, I think that everything I do has meaning. If I'm not, then everything is stupid and I've failed. Everyone else is doing better because they seem to smile when I don't look at them directly.
After all these years, I haven't learned to be direct. Maybe I should try happy?
No. It's a race. My feet weren't designed for that. I'm going to stay.
Maybe I wasn't designed for happy either.
We can't all be happy all the time, you know. It's like money. In order for some to have a lot, most people have to get by with little or none. I don't mind, but it seems like I don't meet too many of the people with lots, and if I'm going to have to do without, I would at least like to know that the people around me aren't going through the same thing.
That's one thing I would ask God. If you must continue in this way, will you take care of the ones I love? I will be satisfied in that.
People talk to me all the time about being depressed. Their arguments usually amount to something along the lines of "I don't like that, so stop it." It's a fair argument, but it's not complete.
You don't know what I've seen.
What I'm able to see. Not yet.
I'm not afraid.
I'm not afraid of sacrificing my entire life to failure for the hope of one success. I'm not afraid of death; I will embrace it when it is my time. I am not scared to be misunderstood. Got to keep breathing. Got to keep writing happy endings because I haven't seen a real one. Got to make it all come out before I go.
I will be satisfied in that.
17.11.11
10.11.11
Umbrella
I find refuge in the time I have to myself.
I think, at one time I was supposed to find refuge in something(someone?) else, but I often forget who that is, and mistake that identity for someone else. I guess I had better hope that this great thing that I never seem to stop looking for is also somehow inside of me, or I may never find it.
Or perhaps, I'll find it and then I'll just give up because I'll never get my head around it or it scares me too much. That's why we watch movies and listen to music. That thing is out there, somewhere in the real world. Better to stay indoors as much as possible, and always go out with an umbrella.
Actually, I prefer Youtube. Sometimes the movies talk about it too.
I'm in a shop called "Hands Coffee." The barrista is kind of cute. I wonder what would happen if I went up to her and told her that, and maybe kissed her on the cheek. Maybe it would be like a movie, except for the part where it's her turn to react.
That's another thing I like about the movies. There's always a main character. I can never react to anything properly because I'm pretty sure I'm an extra. With the amount of effort I put into my life, I'll be lucky if I'm even credited.
The slogan for this place is "My life, my choice." I'm suddenly worried that there are stem cells in my coffee. I forget why that's supposed to make me angry. It has something to do with Christopher Reeve, but he's dead. Should I still be upset?
Anyway, I'm about finished with my latte and I can safely say that the slogan is the only strong thing about this place.
The PA system is playing a jazz cover of "Tainted Love," This has nothing to do with anything (I wish it did) but I thought I'd mention it anyway.
I think the barrista is smiling at me out of the corner of my eye. I try smiling at her. I don't think she was smiling at me anymore.
What I wouldn't give to be at least a supporting cast member. Like Ron Weasley.
He got Hermoine. How the hell did that happen?
This place is orange. I can see the cold, steel blue of the outdoors through the windows. I've been learning about color temperature online in my free time. Everything we think we know is backwards. All the cool colors come from high temperatures, and all the warm ones come from lower temperatures. Does that mean that the outside is warmer?
Or at least, more heat?
Heat isn't the same as temperature. We learned that in school. Temperature is a number, but heat is motion. A vat of molten steel has nothing on the heat generated by the ocean.
Motion. So many things moving around. Life has no plot that I can find.
My hand is on the door. I wait for the heat to come. THe ocean. It spins around in circles, and no one can breathe underwater. The barrista notices me leaving.
"감사합니다! 안녕히 가십시요!"
I'll bet she says that to everyone.
I think, at one time I was supposed to find refuge in something(someone?) else, but I often forget who that is, and mistake that identity for someone else. I guess I had better hope that this great thing that I never seem to stop looking for is also somehow inside of me, or I may never find it.
Or perhaps, I'll find it and then I'll just give up because I'll never get my head around it or it scares me too much. That's why we watch movies and listen to music. That thing is out there, somewhere in the real world. Better to stay indoors as much as possible, and always go out with an umbrella.
Actually, I prefer Youtube. Sometimes the movies talk about it too.
I'm in a shop called "Hands Coffee." The barrista is kind of cute. I wonder what would happen if I went up to her and told her that, and maybe kissed her on the cheek. Maybe it would be like a movie, except for the part where it's her turn to react.
That's another thing I like about the movies. There's always a main character. I can never react to anything properly because I'm pretty sure I'm an extra. With the amount of effort I put into my life, I'll be lucky if I'm even credited.
The slogan for this place is "My life, my choice." I'm suddenly worried that there are stem cells in my coffee. I forget why that's supposed to make me angry. It has something to do with Christopher Reeve, but he's dead. Should I still be upset?
Anyway, I'm about finished with my latte and I can safely say that the slogan is the only strong thing about this place.
The PA system is playing a jazz cover of "Tainted Love," This has nothing to do with anything (I wish it did) but I thought I'd mention it anyway.
I think the barrista is smiling at me out of the corner of my eye. I try smiling at her. I don't think she was smiling at me anymore.
What I wouldn't give to be at least a supporting cast member. Like Ron Weasley.
He got Hermoine. How the hell did that happen?
This place is orange. I can see the cold, steel blue of the outdoors through the windows. I've been learning about color temperature online in my free time. Everything we think we know is backwards. All the cool colors come from high temperatures, and all the warm ones come from lower temperatures. Does that mean that the outside is warmer?
Or at least, more heat?
Heat isn't the same as temperature. We learned that in school. Temperature is a number, but heat is motion. A vat of molten steel has nothing on the heat generated by the ocean.
Motion. So many things moving around. Life has no plot that I can find.
My hand is on the door. I wait for the heat to come. THe ocean. It spins around in circles, and no one can breathe underwater. The barrista notices me leaving.
"감사합니다! 안녕히 가십시요!"
I'll bet she says that to everyone.
8.11.11
Candid/Candone
God is a photographer.
I've been a bit into photography lately, and one of my more willful sins is to think that God is a little bit like me. Perhaps we have a few hobbies in common. I feel the need to indulge in the mood I'm in right now, so you, O loyal reader(s?) will have to forgive me (as He often does).
He put a soft filter of fog down around the whole of the landscape. Spared no expense. The colors are outlined deep against the grey of yet another subtlety that they all dismiss as absence.
He is not seen.
He is behind.
He is gathering exposure.
These days, I am becoming more sensitive to light. I don't understand what it is, but I think that the world is posed; caught in the middle of saying "cheese."
I'll wait until I catch you off guard. I can picture you better that way.
11.10.11
The Easy Hurt
I'm having one of those "not tonight Korea, I have a headache" moments. Everything is a fight.
The students don't listen.
I can't concentrate.
The teachers can't communicate.
The food smells like death.
To be honest, most days, I like the fight. It keeps me awake. In America, life was too easy. I was fat (in more ways than one). Convenience is a slow and happy killer. All we need to do is relax for long enough to mix with the dirt.
Put down roots.
Soak up the sun.
Never move again.
Today I wish I lived close to my sister. The sound of her voice would be like therapy. She understands me without hearing me speak. Don't know if there are other people like that in the world. I moved a world away from it. I don't even think I was happy when I lived near.
It's not you, it's me.
It's easier to be unknown most days. I'm a little bit famous in my city (my face is strange), but that's not what I mean by being known.
Everyone stares.
No one speaks.
It's easy without people. It's easy, but it hurts. It's when you're alone that you notice all the things that you could care about but shouldn't. Things like crowded buses, cranky coworkers, long work hours, persistent coughs, your Facebook account, and the time difference between Seoul and Los Angeles. Not to mention unapetizing elementary school cafeteria food.
Smells like death.
One of my favorite movies is about an Irish man who becomes a butler for an eccentric millionaire who keeps alligators in the house. I'll never forget one particular part of the movie. After his first day, the butler turns to the cook and asks "is it forever like this?"
"Like what?," she says, confused.
"Like this" is something I want to remember. I want to carry it with me until my dying day. Fight to stay alive. Remember what love is. It is, in fact, love that I want, and not the easy unknown. It is not envious or proud. It is not forever like this.
The students don't listen.
I can't concentrate.
The teachers can't communicate.
The food smells like death.
To be honest, most days, I like the fight. It keeps me awake. In America, life was too easy. I was fat (in more ways than one). Convenience is a slow and happy killer. All we need to do is relax for long enough to mix with the dirt.
Put down roots.
Soak up the sun.
Never move again.
Today I wish I lived close to my sister. The sound of her voice would be like therapy. She understands me without hearing me speak. Don't know if there are other people like that in the world. I moved a world away from it. I don't even think I was happy when I lived near.
It's not you, it's me.
It's easier to be unknown most days. I'm a little bit famous in my city (my face is strange), but that's not what I mean by being known.
Everyone stares.
No one speaks.
It's easy without people. It's easy, but it hurts. It's when you're alone that you notice all the things that you could care about but shouldn't. Things like crowded buses, cranky coworkers, long work hours, persistent coughs, your Facebook account, and the time difference between Seoul and Los Angeles. Not to mention unapetizing elementary school cafeteria food.
Smells like death.
One of my favorite movies is about an Irish man who becomes a butler for an eccentric millionaire who keeps alligators in the house. I'll never forget one particular part of the movie. After his first day, the butler turns to the cook and asks "is it forever like this?"
"Like what?," she says, confused.
"Like this" is something I want to remember. I want to carry it with me until my dying day. Fight to stay alive. Remember what love is. It is, in fact, love that I want, and not the easy unknown. It is not envious or proud. It is not forever like this.
4.10.11
Dry For Too Long
There's a weird backward magnetism to rain. It draws everything in and away. I'm looking out at the petals of rain, drumming against my windows on the 4th floor of 해서 Elementary, and I can't help but think that the world within has become enchanted for the disturbance outside.
Colors seem brighter.
Noises louder.
I can hear the students talking as they trample carelessly by my door. They used to speak only as an exotic fog to which I had no clarity.
These days, it seems as though everything is coming into focus.
Took long enough.
Seems like it took just long enough.
The cold air draws the skin tight against my body, and the wind carries with it the scent of air that stood dry for too long. It smells warm.
It will be Halloween. Then Thanksgiving, and then Christmas, but before that, I am going to see home again.
It's such a strange word, in a strange world, and I've been looking for it for longer than I should. It bares teeth, deep down in my soul, and I would fight to keep it alive. I don't now think that I would fit into the shape I held when I was near it. My body is swolen, soaked with a foriegn rain. My actions have accents that are drawn more from love than clarity. Will home take me back? Does love endure all things? Will the prophet find honor in his own town? Have I been struck by something otherworldly, and if she smiles back, should I chase her?
Come away with me.
I came into this world limping so that I could earn the right to run.
Colors seem brighter.
Noises louder.
I can hear the students talking as they trample carelessly by my door. They used to speak only as an exotic fog to which I had no clarity.
These days, it seems as though everything is coming into focus.
Took long enough.
Seems like it took just long enough.
The cold air draws the skin tight against my body, and the wind carries with it the scent of air that stood dry for too long. It smells warm.
It will be Halloween. Then Thanksgiving, and then Christmas, but before that, I am going to see home again.
It's such a strange word, in a strange world, and I've been looking for it for longer than I should. It bares teeth, deep down in my soul, and I would fight to keep it alive. I don't now think that I would fit into the shape I held when I was near it. My body is swolen, soaked with a foriegn rain. My actions have accents that are drawn more from love than clarity. Will home take me back? Does love endure all things? Will the prophet find honor in his own town? Have I been struck by something otherworldly, and if she smiles back, should I chase her?
Come away with me.
I came into this world limping so that I could earn the right to run.
26.9.11
Jeju Day 9: Till It's Done
Literally nothing happened these last 2 days. I tried to rest, and my foot didn't get any better. 미영 called me today, and we went to a place called the "Oriental Medicine Clinic," to give accupuncture a try. The first thing that surprised me is that this procedure is covered by my insurance. I guess that shows how little stock I put in the process.
The doctor came in and touched my wrists briefly. He told me that my injuries were not serious. I told him that it was my foot that was injured. He looked at me like I had just said the dumbest thing in the world. 미영 says that these doctors can tell the health of your entire body just by squeesing your wrists. I rolled my eyes at her pretty hard as I watched this guy poke 2 needles in my hand.
OW! 발이야!(It's my foot.)
I said this a few times, but he didn't dignify my stupidity with a response. He put one more neede in my arm, then two in my right leg (I injured my left foot) and the 2 more on my left foot, but none in the effected area. He then told me to wait for 10 minutes. It was like seeing a real doctor, except that I didn't believe a word he said. They put some weird goo on my foot and sent me home.
After my medical excursion, I got a text message from Cassie, telling me that she and Adean were going to get Indian food, and did I want to come? I wasn't instantly keen on the idea of going out, but I've really got to soak up the time I've got left with these two. I only have a few weeks until they go back to their respectve countries. We enjoyed some 메이블토스트 (toast with cream and syrup) and griped about work for a bit (even though I just got back from vacation, I try to save a few things for emergency gripe purposes). I feel like these two are family, and I've only known them for a year. I'll miss them lots, though both of them are for sure tired of Korea, and need to go home before either of them infects me with home sickness. I still have things to do here.
So there it was.
An adventure.
Confronting my past and using my present to make sense of my future. I often call myself "Lonely Bear," but I'm starting to realize that I've never really had to be alone. Maybe in a strange way, I chose to be alone for this brief time to better understand myself. What good is all this information if there is no one to share it with?
So, to you o' loyal reader(s?), I confess. I am not an artist or a visionary. I'm just some crazy kid who thinks in pictures, watches too many movies, and hears voices in his head. What I have heard and seen, I now relate to you. May it help you to grow, as I myself need desperately to grow up. Thank you for being here to wintness my first awkward steps in that direction. Speaking of awkward steps, I'll be damned if my foot isn't feling better already.
Accupuncture.
go fugure.
That's life for you. You never, ever, know what's going to do it 'till it's done. That's how long I plan to keep telling the story. Stop by again sometime.
The doctor came in and touched my wrists briefly. He told me that my injuries were not serious. I told him that it was my foot that was injured. He looked at me like I had just said the dumbest thing in the world. 미영 says that these doctors can tell the health of your entire body just by squeesing your wrists. I rolled my eyes at her pretty hard as I watched this guy poke 2 needles in my hand.
OW! 발이야!(It's my foot.)
I said this a few times, but he didn't dignify my stupidity with a response. He put one more neede in my arm, then two in my right leg (I injured my left foot) and the 2 more on my left foot, but none in the effected area. He then told me to wait for 10 minutes. It was like seeing a real doctor, except that I didn't believe a word he said. They put some weird goo on my foot and sent me home.
After my medical excursion, I got a text message from Cassie, telling me that she and Adean were going to get Indian food, and did I want to come? I wasn't instantly keen on the idea of going out, but I've really got to soak up the time I've got left with these two. I only have a few weeks until they go back to their respectve countries. We enjoyed some 메이블토스트 (toast with cream and syrup) and griped about work for a bit (even though I just got back from vacation, I try to save a few things for emergency gripe purposes). I feel like these two are family, and I've only known them for a year. I'll miss them lots, though both of them are for sure tired of Korea, and need to go home before either of them infects me with home sickness. I still have things to do here.
So there it was.
An adventure.
Confronting my past and using my present to make sense of my future. I often call myself "Lonely Bear," but I'm starting to realize that I've never really had to be alone. Maybe in a strange way, I chose to be alone for this brief time to better understand myself. What good is all this information if there is no one to share it with?
So, to you o' loyal reader(s?), I confess. I am not an artist or a visionary. I'm just some crazy kid who thinks in pictures, watches too many movies, and hears voices in his head. What I have heard and seen, I now relate to you. May it help you to grow, as I myself need desperately to grow up. Thank you for being here to wintness my first awkward steps in that direction. Speaking of awkward steps, I'll be damned if my foot isn't feling better already.
Accupuncture.
go fugure.
That's life for you. You never, ever, know what's going to do it 'till it's done. That's how long I plan to keep telling the story. Stop by again sometime.
25.9.11
Jeju Day 7: Doctor, Doctor
Feels great to wake up in my home, on a real bed, in a place where I can listen to music and use a computer. I didn't realize how much I missed my guitar either. I should play more often.
I decided not to go on the internet until the official "end" of my vacation, which is Friday. The idea feels pretty good I wait a few hours before calling my co-worker, 미영(MiYoung) to see if she can help me find a doctor's office. I always forget that her name is listed as "cleo" in my phone. I never call her that.
I'm starting to lose confidence in adults as I become closer to becoming one. Doctors, for instance. The doctor that 미영 and I went to. They took x-rays, shocked my foot with electrcity, and wrapped it in a hot bag for half an hour, then gave me pills and told me not to walk around a lot for the next 2 days.
미영 says that accupuncture is better.
Who knows, maybe it is?
All I'm starting to think is that no one really knows anything. Everything depends on what kind of documentation you have. That's what gives you the right to guess about things. Maybe I don't really know as little as I thought, compared to everyone else. I'm going to get some rest.
Maybe soon, I'll get to write about what accupuncture is like.
I decided not to go on the internet until the official "end" of my vacation, which is Friday. The idea feels pretty good I wait a few hours before calling my co-worker, 미영(MiYoung) to see if she can help me find a doctor's office. I always forget that her name is listed as "cleo" in my phone. I never call her that.
I'm starting to lose confidence in adults as I become closer to becoming one. Doctors, for instance. The doctor that 미영 and I went to. They took x-rays, shocked my foot with electrcity, and wrapped it in a hot bag for half an hour, then gave me pills and told me not to walk around a lot for the next 2 days.
미영 says that accupuncture is better.
Who knows, maybe it is?
All I'm starting to think is that no one really knows anything. Everything depends on what kind of documentation you have. That's what gives you the right to guess about things. Maybe I don't really know as little as I thought, compared to everyone else. I'm going to get some rest.
Maybe soon, I'll get to write about what accupuncture is like.
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