for Hugue.

2. …

so why bother, then?

willing to place your fragile heart in his cold hands,

a nursery bud just finding its bloom

searching a certain completion

that the flesh must finally surrender

for all of us are dust.

stardust, the romantics like to say.

still, dust all the way.

3.

perhaps your words would have moved me

in another time.

i do not trust any more.

Oh, i know how humans change

they deceived me through my hundreds of years

and will deceive me yet again.

but i am not weaponless.

I bestow a single kiss,

and the stars will come falling down

and you will see the light that haloes me

as you fall farther away, and find that

your final rest is far below.

I had always warned you

but you laughed my words away

oh, how you laughed my words away.

some things don’t change.

1) she’s not family – but i find that appealing in a way. sasuga QG.

2) he’s married!! ok, not married married, but has been with her for 6 freakin years.. -in shock-

3) i have to chill.

1. It hasn’t snowed yet, but it’s freaking cold. Max of 40F, min of 32F.

2. Got the presentation over with today, and last seminar session today. Really gotta learn how to voice what I wanna say.

3. Too many plans, too little time.

Ne.

If we run with shadows and phantoms we will fall exhausted before they do.

Whoever makes his way out of confusion does so by individual effort, sun up or sun down, in all weathers, contemplating dust and flowers and craving and fear, living in ease but not in trance, ungrasping and mindful, doing serenely what needs to be done, and discerning ahead through worldly smoke and rain a brightening landscape.

-Bhikkhu Nyanasobhano

From Wilfred Owen.

We have fallen in the dreams the ever-living
Breathe on the tarnished mirror of the world,
And then smooth out with ivory hands and sigh.
- “The Shadowy Waters,” W. B. Yeats

Lee Jun-ki

Because I’m procrastinating, and I love to share beauty with others , go check out my new page on Lee Jun-ki under “Eye Candy.”

Happy Wednesday!

nice.

I was so upset yesterday, and I realized that my posts sound pretty emo. Sigh. Can’t help it, I blog mostly when emotional. I’ve decided to inject an element of fantasy into my blog now, to keep me from thinking too much. So dear reader, just treat my blog as fiction from now on. After all, real life kinda sucks.

But a good sleep always helps so much. I was totally upset yesterday and considered cutting myself, but talking to Unnie and Valium worked. But only 4 more lessons, and I don’t have to see her anymore, which is very good. How someone as biased and incompetent as her could be placed into a position of authority makes me question human resource abilities.

I am channeling SMA + ♥ 준기오 빠.. will keep yall updated on that goes lol

Frankly, it hurts. I didn’t know that people could do such things to others. I wish that I could vanish or tune out all the pain or just not be here. They say you should count to ten and then react. I counted, oh I did, but it made no difference. She says that it’s only four more times you have to see her. I’d rather cut myself and see all that red, and remember  that I am alive,  a person, and not a merely a vessel crafted to hold all that hurt. I understand why people do the things they do, leaping off buildings  or walking into the paths of vehicles or stepping onto train tracks or overdosing or hanging or guns.

忘れる （Wasureru）

Let the music fill me drown me bliss me

do not whisper, laugh or kiss

listen to this song -

Forgetting begins today.

the red child

Ah my red child where did you go?

You vanished so quickly I did not know

you at all, at first.

Perhaps you were scared by the glint of the bayonets

or just the unintelligible language they spoke

or the pain they brought with them.

 

Ah my red child where are you now?

The creatures have gone away

It has been two long years but

the demons have gone away.

They have taken their knives and guns

and my soul away.

 

…

 

Ah my red child is that you I see?

My eyes are weak, this body aged

Some sixty years since you left

[That girl in her spring

that spring she remembers

all too well, her body remembers it too]

 

The red child kisses me and

I am well again:

pure as the rain that falls and

cleanses the earth

young as the rising sun

remembering gentleness, smiles

and kind words.

It was all a bad dream, wasn’t it?

 

The red child laughs, and holds my hand.

Your world grows dark

yet mine sings her song

of the peace and joy of all things gone.

 

Note: This poem was inspired by learning about the experiences of the many Korean, Southeast Asian, Chinese and other women forced into sexual slavery in the Pacific War by the Japanese military. Known euphemistically as “comfort women,” ianfu or chongsindae, these women serviced up to thirty men a day and were subjected not only to sexual violence, but disease and other forms of horrific physical abuse. Up till this day their government gives them only cursory recognition.