In the dark of the night, under the faint city lights, my fervent thoughts whisper through my alcohol-soaked mind. My thoughts scream; nightmares that remain primordial and waiting to unveil. They linger, throbbing in the ebb and flow of my breathing. Deep inhale; a slow exhale creeping into focus. My thoughts chatter; an intricate description of a tomorrow with loved ones and passion projects to be. The futures I want to achieve, the verses I want to shape for my creative works – all dancing on the edges of my periphery and begging to be captured.
Is it hate or regret? Is it hope? All I know is change. All I have is change. Two weeks here; a month there. I know you. I don’t know you. A fellow foreigner in a strange land but you left, just like the others, yet again. It’s restless. We both know how we must struggle to make a stand, to claim a place amongst the supposed numerous opportunities. We are framed. A year has passed. I chose to move on, looking for the fit promised but unfulfilled. The world can be cruel. It builds up hope in time, only to lead you down a darker alley.
Don’t gaslight me for your incomprehension and your failure to be punctilious. Choices, even a single word said in a different inflection, can leave an uneasy impression. You claim to respect my background. Yet, you question the outcome. I will not apologize for your incoherency. It is not out of rudeness or bluntness. I will not stand to be bent by injustice or bias. Don’t gaslight me for being grammatically correct.
The things we carry and will carry. I see them here. I see them there. That building changed, the scaffolding finally removed. I have walked past it for years. The soft scent of the neatly folded, discolored paper on which you wrote your gentle words before we ate together. Were they genuine or were they signs of the imminent? It was budae jjigae. Here is that old cookie box, made of tin, containing mementos from yesterday. Postcards of everywhere and nowhere; it’s a blue hippopotamus. Thank you for the encouragement, “get back up after you get knocked down”. I remember a framed puzzle by Jimmy. The past marks my journals, the last of which took six years. Spilled ink runneth like tears on the page. Of joy. Of sadness. Of hope. Of loneliness. Of successes. Of mistakes.
Four years ago, I came over. Today, I resign; have I arrived?
突然的期待 卻也還是等待. 說得出口的幾句 有沒有含帶背後的情緒. 離開, 自立, 成家. 最近日出之時, 我無法睜開眼. 我要的是豔陽. 冬去春來不過是入秋的氣氛. 一樣的風. 一樣的雨. 幻覺 家的天空很閃爍. 這裡只有記憶和未來. 現在的一切 閉眼就消失. 只有呼吸才存在. 我還在.
Ramblings while reading in a bar or in a subway car. Ramblings taking a cold shower to relive the freedom I found sweating. Ramblings over soju and mezcal, some combination of alcohol. Ramblings of a titillated mind. Wanderlust for lust; I’m focused. I’m scattered. Everything everywhere is beckoning. 歡迎光臨.