Unknowing

When a relationship is fresh, you can hear the squeaking from its cleanliness and shine. The texture of the interaction is foreign and thick - there is much to hash out. Old relationships can become like that too, except that the texture is more foggy than dense - you think you can make out what is but you actually don't know, and you end up with having to feel it out again.

Many times we hesitate to. We justify our reluctance with learned lessons, and deny our own shortcomings that led to the anticlimatic ending. We say that we know what the person is, as if the breakdown was a indication of all their bad traits that struck out our relationship. They say, the more you know someone, the more you don't them - hell, then who do you really know? What can you do, than to trust someone, or anyone, in dependence of that moment? In the desperation of time, 'cus we are so out of time to be going through black holes of entire humans beings to just to get acquainted.

When Your Light Dims

There are some experiences that make or break us. When an experience breaks you, it doesn't mean you can't be repaired. There's still hope for recuperation. But there is a promise that is broken that you will always remember, and that reminder is worn on your behavior, your psyche, your body. It was a promise I made to myself that I would weather any storm that came my way, that I would tough it out because it was a decision out of love for the culture. There was blood, sweat, and tears, but more than anything, it was my thick skin and guts that helped me face the early stages of torment.

There is a withering away from an experience. The part where you feel helpless and you have self-doubt all up and through you, like a friend who barged into the room you were sleeping in, and raped you. You wonder if you were wrong to sleep over a friend's place and not yours. You wonder if you were too naive about this world and how your warped world is of your own making, so disconnected from others', who live their own crazy, fucked-up truths. You rehash words by the previous generation and the generation before them--something about stability and staying indoors late at night. And you, kicking and screaming, start eating your own words while morbidly contemplating how long it would take before the most noble part of you wears out and becomes the butt of your jokes, or god forbid, others' in 20 years.

There is a hardening of the heart from an experience. You are no longer moved by the ideas and words of your peers. You are shut down, and any hint of empathy has been robbed out of you. You constantly process other people's experience through your dysfunction, and misconstrue the intentions of others. You are quick to being presumptuous and dismissive, while bleeding arrogance from your swollen sore of a bad experience. You put your pain above others, therefore losing your ability to feel for others.

The scariest part of the experience is the dimming of your light. After being broken down and losing heart, you realize that you have moved yourself into a different paradigm. The words that spill from your mouth, the darkness you carry have attracted people and things into your life that come from a different place. This is the hardest part, when you lose the ability and the heart to return to your journey of the most beautiful dream, the noblest intention your mind could possibly conjure. You can not return because you don't know how, and you don't want to. You are lost.

Politicize This!

부끄럽지만 미드 <스캔들>을 보면서 이런 생각을 하게 됐다. 난 언제부터 나의 사적인 문제를 이슈화, 정치화 시키기 시작했을까. 이게 과연 진정한 박애의 실현인가 아니면 내 에고의 연장선인가. 하니면 내가 내 자신을 문제를 극복하는 반사적 반응일까. 남이 나의 문제에 대해 관심을 갖게.

이틀 전 <셀마>를 보면서 셀마에서 첫 행진을 시도하다 아들을 잃게된 노인을 찾아가, 다음 날 설교할 당시 그 죽은 아이의 이름을 대며 인권에 대해 연설을 했을때 너무 적날하게 그 같은 논리가 보였다. 좋은 게 좋은 거라지만 자신, 혹은 남의 아품을 공적인 이슈로 만드는 근원은 무엇일까. Food For Thought.

Stream of Consciousness

Tension. comfort. go with the flow. fucking naive. don't belive in the hype. ballooning of the ego. ego-stroking. striking similarity. struck a chord. epiphany shit. make your eyes light up. flutter. shutter. 1,2,3 flash. games. no games. play games. level the playing field. fuck ideals. fuck your situation. don't get no better.

Let Me Have a Fuck to Give

 I made a self-indulgent decision to commit a morally-questionable act.

 I won’t try to explain the motivation behind it, because explaining it would be a sheepish attempt at justifying my actions, and if we all have the mercy of society to allow us that luxury and be exempt of our mistakes, or even lessen the consequences despite the gravity of the reality of it then I am unsure of my place in such a society. I can’t speak on murderers, drug dealers and their customers, frauds, but from my observations and experiences as a 24-year old woman I will say many of the morally-questionable acts we commit stem from our conflicting morals resulting from the wear and tear of the unexpected lashing outs we have had upon us. The moment we say “I am accustomed to this pain”, there is such a deep sense of sadness that overcome us, a brokenness that can never be mended because you cannot un-see what you have already seen. Sure, there will be future moments of excitement from a situation contrary to our pain but when that excitement fades and we are betrayed again, the pain is rubbed against our chests, a familiar fragrance, and we leave it there. I believe we attract all the people we have attracted in our lives and will continue to, for good reason. I also believe that you will consistently be faced with the same problems unless you learn the lesson due. Mistakes are borne when we are unable to learn this lesson, and moral crimes are committed when status quo accumulates. Mistakes are when those involved are hurt, or disadvantaged, while moral crimes affect the involved and innocent ones, because as they say, injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere. Moral crimes can be a wake-up call, or it can beget bigger moral crimes, or a continuation of similar acts. I am at the point of this crossroad. On one hand, I no longer want to interrogate myself with questions like “Who’s going to love me?”, “Who can love me?”, “Why me?”, but on the other hand, my broken history doesn’t have a fuck to give.


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끔찍하게 지루하다

"끔찍하게 지루하다"라고 느끼는 어제와 오늘, 지난 5개월, 잊지 말자. 내 자신에게 오래전부터 "더 이상 재미없으면 관두자"라는 약속, 잊지 말자. 더 이상 설레지 않고, 내 심혈을 기울일수 없고, 집중조차 못하는 것에 왜 내 짧은 인생을 허비해야 하나.

오래전부터 느꼈던 것이지만 이제서야 내자신에게 시인할수 있다. 지루하다. 이 지루함이 나를 이 땅으로 데리고 온후 난 이 지루함을 없애기 위해 새로운 영감을 찾고 다녔다. 새로운 사람들도 만나고, 안가본 곳들도 가보고, 쉬지 않고 새로운 시도를 해봤다. 근데 신선하지가 않다. 심지여 내가 전에 열정을 느꼈던 것들도 날 더 이상 설레이게 하지 않는다. 음악의 볼륨을 낮춘듯 약간의 감성의 움직임은 있지만 예전처럼 강력하지 않다. 강력했을때 더 노력할걸.

원시적인 환경으로 가야하나. 도시 생활이 내 열정과 영혼을 앗아가는 것 같다.

Quarter of a Century Thots

올해 25, 지금 글로만 쓰고 상상만해도 설레이게 하는 것들...

- 심장을 울리는(진짜 말그대로 베이스가 강한, 가사도 막강한) 음악을 들었을때
- 진심 어린 눈빛으로 누군가가 날 바라볼때
- 맛난, 정직하고 깨끗한 한끼 식사 앞에
- 솔직한 글을 쓴 후 3일후, 3개월후, 3년후 다시 읽었을때 소름 돋을때
- 오랜친구 만나기 10분 전
- 쫄깃하고 맛있는 키스
- 조깅끝에
- 좋은 프로젝트를 남과 함께 구상하며 기획할때
- 돈 없는데 위에 언급한 프로젝트와 같을 일을 남과 토론하고 일 벌릴때 ("사고 치든 하고 말거야" 정신)
- 20층 이상 빌딩 꼭대기에서 밑을 바라봤을때


...그러고 보니 아직 설레이는게 많다. 실망하든 더 갈망하게 만들든 더 도전하자. 더 살자.