flight times

a lot of things happened this term went by so fast

peripheral spaces

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I don't mind wearing glasses since I've always loved things to do with lenses. Binoculars, kaleidoscopes and most recently, telescopes. There's just something about staring at the sky. Things look pretty from far away, but up close there's always something else - some hidden shadow or aspect missed. Since stars are so far away, it takes sometimes up to 2 million years for the light to reach us. Some celestial bodies are so far away that by the time the light reaches us, the actual stars no longer exist. All we're seeing are the ancient memories of a mythical land - phantom projections of an abandoned message in a bottle. I don't know why but I feel sad when I think about it.

ghost bird

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what destroys wisdom more than pride
neglecting to thank God for every insight
thinking thoughts precipitate if you stir the words around for long enough with endogenous might
without catalyst or light or divine carbon dioxide

lucky guy

I turn up the charm and approach the girl
and when I make my proposition the most honest corner of my soul
hopes that she says no

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sometimes I like to pretend that everyone around are zombies trying to eat me

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just lost an hour
time travel isn't as exciting as I imagined it to be

clair de lune

Your soul is as a moonlit landscape fair,
Peopled with maskers delicate and dim,
That play on lutes and dance and have an air
Of being sad in their fantastic trim.
The while they celebrate in minor strain
Triumphant love, effective enterprise,
They have an air of knowing all is vain,—
And through the quiet moonlight their songs rise,
The melancholy moonlight, sweet and lone,
That makes to dream the birds upon the tree,
And in their polished basins of white stone
The fountains tall to sob with ecstasy. 

-Paul Verlaine

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the queen of my heart is the only one it will accept
the trouble is, neither she nor I know who it is yet

Papa Bear

the only thing constant in life is change the speed of light

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Time slowing down, every second stretching into eternity - am I dying or becoming immortal?
This must be what it feels like to live forever

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why do you paint out your misery so meticulously and frame it up for all to see

George Green

it doesn't hurt so much when I see your picture
as when I happen to walk down the library corridor
just you and I explored

ignored by the hordes of studying/sleeping university students
picturing myself as part of a prospective cohort
I rushed around taking in all the sights and sounds
excited about a brand new adventure
imagining what it would be like in two years' time
trying to picture the future, not knowing how much would change

I hurried around each nook and cranny
you followed at a markedly slower pace
what I wouldn't give to go back,
walk beside you and savour each step

worn out from walking
we sat at the library cafe and enjoyed a sandwich each
we didn't speak (or not much at least)
but I basked in your presence -
that feeling of guidance and security
from having a familiar and fatherly figure
to accompany me on these foreign expeditions

the surrounding chatter of the crowd
masked my quiet admiration
I felt safe watching you
munch your bread serenely
crumbs trapped in your thick moustache
eyes framed by black horn-rimmed glasses
staring into the distance,
deeply lost in thought
what a perfect moment,
so brief I had almost forgot
how I wish I had told you then
what I still can't find the words to say
and then the moment passed
and we left our seats behind
moving onward to meet our next appointment
but sometimes I still find you there
along that single library corridor
just you and I explored

unreliable narrator / literary conceits

sometimes I do stupid things like stay up all night reading comics

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what if we're all just tilting at windmills

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dazzling coda

Just discovered that cadence and decadence are derived from the same root word in latin

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we'll take a walk to find the gift shop.
who would've thought the book that you bought would never come off the shelf

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just stating the obvious, but I still find it amazing how facebook has revolutionized eavesdropping (and stalking)

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"browse by model"

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Wish I could make a living out of writing love letters and selling recordings of myself reading them. Guess I'd better work on my writing (or perhaps my reading)

one of a kind

love is all around but sometimes I wish it were closer

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I don't always say what I mean and I don't always mean what I say but I always mean to say it that way

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I've been called insensitive twice before. It's likely that other people think the same but I've probably just never noticed.

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When I was 10 I used to call people idiots frequently - whenever they did something wrong or asked an obvious question. I said it in a venomous way, constricting the larynx and forcing the air out sharply on the first syllable, bouncing the first consonant off the roof of my mouth quickly with a tone of finality at the end. A friend's mother heard me calling her son that and reprimanded me. Since then till now I've probably only ever called two people idiots. When I was 12, I would make fun of my friend's weight. For about a year I did this and people would laugh and so did he, until one time in church camp where he shared that he was very sensitive about his weight and wished that people would stop commenting about it. I never said another word about it. Then when I was 15, I transferred schools. I made friends quite quickly there. One of my first and closest (at least I considered him that way. I'm not sure how he felt about me) friends had abundant leg hair and I would tease him about it. People would laugh and so did he, until he asked me why I was so mean to him. I realized that almost everything I said in reference to him was a thinly veiled insult, despite the fact that I bore no ill-will toward him. I think I would be more popular if I were more sarcastic, but I don't think I'd have many friends.

I would too (so would I)

flower girl / mona

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Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle

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I couldn't help but notice - the moon seemed extra large today

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Today, there was a girl on the bus. She was sitting in the first row of the upper deck and seemed to be engrossed in thought. Without paying her much attention, I settled myself into the seat behind her. And then she started sobbing softly. She was sitting with her feet up, arms crossed upon her knees with her face buried in the crook of her elbow. I wouldn't have noticed if not for the sound of her intermittent sniffing. When the sun and shade permitted, I caught glimpses of her reflection in the window. Every now and again she would wipe her tears with the cuff of her long sleeved jumper. Beside her lay a bouquet, arranged carefully and wrapped neatly in layers of plastic.

As I got off the bus, I couldn't help but think: should I have said something? If so, what should I have said? What would she have said? Would it have made a difference? I've never been good at expressing unsolicited concern. I always feel odd observing the daily drama of people around me - to be shown a total stranger's solitary struggles - I just don't know how to react. Most people are extremely selective when it comes to sharing their inner thoughts and troubles, but then - when you least expect it - they let their guard down. It's so rare to witness another person's private life - the part they normally keep tucked away beneath their public persona. But for a short while, two normally disconnected worlds intersected, and then went off along their respective orbits. Some may regard it as an unremarkable encounter, but it left a huge impression on me. Such closeness always makes me uncomfortable.

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Mona the florist's assistant. Pretty sure there's a story in there somewhere. (one at a time)

자주 들었는 말

Like 'being buried alive in memories'

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Is it normal for one's mind to be constantly haunted by such melodramatic lines?

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My fondest memories from last summer are of my time spent working as a waiter at a Japanese restaurant.

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A week without sleep, thoughts become disconnected and tangle at my feet while the frozen air dances between the gaps in my teeth.

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내 마음을 알고있는 여자 / 내 마음 속에  있는 여자  
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Like being buried alive in memories.

unmistakable qualities

and the rest of the time pretending to be happy

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all the novels I want to read are in different languages

lost boys

if truth and excellence could combine

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more than the stars love to shine

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dear, I wish you'd be mine

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what can you see from way up there?

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what's the use in having so many mutual friends if none of them ever introduce us