한국말로 글써보는건 참 오랜만인데....하여튼!

요새 참 하늘이 낮아보인다.

새파란것이 구름도 별로 없어서 저 천장이 참 높게 느껴질뻔한데,

이 어찌된게 참 하늘이 낮아보인다. 저 하늘에다가 내 근심걱정을

달아놓아서 그런가보다.

저 높은 천막이 조금씩

조금씩

축 처지더니

이제 결국 내가 손을 올려보면 만져질만큼 낮게

낮게

내려앉았다. 그래서 어느 순간 커피 한캔을 손에 들고

다른 손으로 하늘을 향해 손을 들어본다. 아뿔싸,

느껴지는 공허는 무엇이리.

손을 내렸다.

그런데 아직도 하늘은 축 늘어앉아있다.

한번만 톡 하고 뛰어오르면 머리를

꿍~ 하고 박아버릴 것같이 위협하는 저 하늘은 뭐일까.

내 근심을 버려야 저 하늘이 좀 제자리를 찾아 올라갈까.

Love Story

Taylor Swift's 'Love Story' depicts the story of Romeo and Juliet, with a happy twist.

Instead of the tragic death for the star crossed lovers, a romantic 'gone with the wind' style ending happens. It is an ending most lovers my age would wish for.

Yet I ask myself just how many will actually end up as such. How many 'high school sweethearts' end up marrying, like in the good old 60s and 70s? Not many, I'd hazard a guess. Because, as high school students(and about to enter college), the odds stacked against us are too great.

The odds go by many names; principally, it takes its form as 'reality'. No mater how strong our love is, how naive we are, how strong a resolve that we keep, we finally come to despair at the huge wall that sprouts out to divide us.

Sometimes spontaneously like earthquake changing the geography of our relationship, it renders our effort to draw the map of our love, our minds, useless. It's also known as parental intervention.

In other cases, it's slower, more gradual, manifesting itself like vines and ivy against brick wall, slowly crawling up, until each of us are gone from the other's view. No maps will help then. Nor will anything else.

Another takes form of nobility(sometimes it comes with the prefix of 'foolish') Not much for guys, a girl's time for 'viable' marriage is limited. To be frank, there's only a certain period of time where girl is physically attractive, and it would be best for the girl if she meets various men before that time is expired. Arguably, it is no longer the 19th century where the woman's beauty and the amount of endowment were the only concerns in marriage, yet woman's transient beauty is a definite factor. Some guys feel that it may not be the best for him to stay with a girl too long knowing that the guy won't be marrying her.

I'm more of the latter, combined with everything else.

I ask myself whether all this is just a clever ruse on my part to self-justify.

To be frank, I do not know. The only thing I do know is that my feelings have not gone cold. It's hot, and it's still burning. What I do not know is how to handle the end, if it comes, because it will hurt me just as much as it hurts her. Not again will I be the man who walks away feeling freed instead of hurt. Yet the ending will be similar, I fear.

"He knelt to the ground and pulled out a ring

And said, marry me Juliet

You'll never have to be alone

I love you and that's all I really know

I talked to your dad, go pick out a white dress

It's a love story, baby just say yes"

But sweetheart, I can't say yes with the lightest of heart.

Don't take her away from me.

Leave me the warmth of her hand in my hand,

and allow me the simple pleasure of warming her hand when cold.

Don't take her away from me.

Leave me the soft feel of her fine hair in my hand,

the flowery smell that envelop me every time her hair gently sways in the wind,

and allow me the simple pleasure of burying myself in that intoxicating smell.

Don't take her away from me.

Leave me the two almond-shaped eyes that hold more feelings that I ever will,

the two deep wells that I fall into every time,

two gems that I cannot find the right words to describe,

two beautiful crescents arched upwards every time she smiles.

and allow me the simple pleasure of kissing those eyes

Don't take her away from me.

I am a jealous soul, and also desperate.

What can I say, when I have not much left but her to keep me alive in this world?

Some may say I have everything that I need, everything that one could desire.

But to me I am lost without her; it's when she is next to me I can live, she's addictive.

If you want my limbs, then it's yours.

If you want my eyes, then it's yours.

If you want my heart, then it's also yours.

If you want my breath, even that I can give.

Just don't take her away from me.

2:30 AM

You're the sound of devil whispering in my ears

You're the smell of thieves' footsteps in the darkness

You're the words of a devil's adovcate

You're the burning crisps of paper on cigarette

You're the calling of a drug syringe to an addict

You're the yellowed cigarette filter after a long draught

You're the most roaring fire that's engulfing a household

You destroy you seduce you attract

A succubus? shall we say,

but there's a side of you so beautiful so attractive,

like the wicked innocence of a baby unknowingly decapitating an insect.

so let's dance, dance

on the blade of a knife

ever quicker becomes our strife

foot falls faster our hands interlock,

the weight of our sin will be shed in blood

Chasing Dreams

Needless to say the conversation was like walking on thin ice; or hold I say minefield in the middle of hot summer, because i was sweating professedly despite the bitingly chilly weather. Every dialogue I threw at her she deflected, and every jab I made at her defenses she blocked and repelled, as if she didn't want to be saved, almost.
As if she enjoyed dwelling in her misery. Not that I had any right to know her that deep inside... I saw her that night, just as a poor musician entertaining the gorgeous lady that she was, of noble birth and power and wealth equal to her status. What could I hope for? What WAS I hoping for?

I dunno what song I had played - I was stuck in my past, sucking me away, shackling me, confining me to the bottom part of the hourglass - where the sand sinks and stays there, where the passed time stays - in our memories, confined - loud whistles, loud claps, and call for my name - I was back, I climbed back to the top of te hourglass.

I sat dazed, even as the last note and the clap died away into the smoky atmosphere. I blinked a couple of times, trying to pull myself out of the flow of sand, threatening me to pull me back to the bottom. I tried desperately to drag myself out of the limbo of past and present, but to no avail. My lips reluctantly opened, letting the present access me, flowing into my mouth, circulating around my body - I wasn't breathing - was I hoping to bury myself in the sands of time, dwell in the boulevard of misery and bittersweet happiness? I felt confused. What was I hoping for?

"Thank you thank you... Hope that wasn't too heavy for beginning. Anybody who want a dance here is one for you"

I knotted my fingers together and stretched. They screamed in protest; they were stiff and resented me for not using them for so long. A short tune of jazz entertained my ears. When did I play that last? The memory continue to elude me. As if we were very close, only separated from my vision and my senses by a thin veil of time. It felt so close - only an arm's reach away - yet it did not show itself to me. Sighing, I started playing from the beginning. Uplifting melody rare to jazz started, and a fanfare by the rest of the band(who jumped up to the stage even as I started playing) brought some of the people off their chairs.

As the high from the music and a delicious mix of alcohol and smoke hit me I started to smile. My fingers only protested from lack of exercise but they still danced up and down the keyboard just the same. It felt good.... But higher you go the bigger the fall. Perhaps it was because of such elevated state I was in that I remembered-or was it the memories being cruel to me? The thin veil I started to forget ripped, the corrosive grips of my memories pulled me down again, back where I belong... The lights got brighter and brighter, the pleasant mixture of sound merging into one horrendous cacophony, my body repelled present again, jumping back into the sweet suffocating sludge of past. I was back.

Global Concern

“Alright, thank you everyone and see you guys next week, same time.” I said with dread pitting at the bottom of my stomach. As if on cue, the members of the Korea Without Borders Global Concern(GC) kicked back their chairs and sprinted for the door, their bags and books already packed away 20 minutes ago. I heard one or two swearing that they’d never come back again.

Something had to be done. For the past two months since this Global Concern project was set up I have been trying desperately to make a change that I had so longed to make. If only people will listen! How is helping the foreign workers who suffer from discrimination and lack of health care worthless? Why don’t people give my cause the attention and devotion that it obviously deserves? Isn’t upholding the Universal Declaration of Human rights a worthwhile cause? A couple of weeks more like this and the Global Concerns Executive will intervene, and this project would be shut down. It was now or never.

Then it hit me. They may have feigned interest in my cause, but they were really in it because of the things they could gain from joining my GC, and I can tell you it wasn’t the fulfillment when you help others. They aren’t heartless; they knew that the cause was important. The problem was, my cause wasn’t their cause. It was something you’d look at every day and just pass by thinking ‘oh that’s too bad’. As a leader I had only been asserting my views, expecting others to think the same way I did, without considering other people’s interests. That was a poor example of leadership.

I started to see things from their perspective. I knew they all had traits that made them valuable to our team one way or another. Motivation was the key word here. The inspiration could come later. I analyzed their strengths and weaknesses, then it really came together clearly how to make them work cohesively as a team. I would give the artists jobs for publicity and awareness. I would give the musicians a concert sponsored under our GC. I would give the outspoken ones positions to lead small groups.

Things finally kicked into motion. We held our first fundraiser in January at the school community fair. We raised 300 dollars. It was a start.

A leader, then I came to realize, is not a renaissance man who can make things happen by himself and cause a following with godlike achievements. He’s just a man by himself. He stands out in the crowd because he holds a vision, the big picture in his mind that he will devote his life in order to make that big picture a reality. In most cases these visions are worthwhile, such is the case with my project, but what makes that vision come to reality, is the connection that the leader makes with his vision and the followers. His job is to give the crowd of people a ‘push’ in the right direction to start a movement that will snowball and cause the change that he had hoped to make. I will be that change.

This is actually going to be my university application essay haha. But this sums my experience up nicely.

Believe.

What we believe is what we become. I can't recall who actually said that nor can I remember who told me that. But looking back I know that's true. The image of whatever we believe, whether it be religion, a certain person, a certain model of life or society, will latch onto our minds, our soul, our body and steer us in ways unimaginable, subtly, controlling our subconsciousness and also consciousness to become whatever is that we believe.

Only I realized that too late. No, I realized it yet I didn't do anything about it.

I don't really have a role model. Not a real one anyway. I only have this image of myself that I want to be. A fictional character who, in the future, hopefully become me. A character with a broad spectrum of freinds and who is able to communicate and associate with the whole spectrum of the society. In other words, he has to be the renaissance man; he must be all rounded, multi-talented, and most of all, standing at the center of the society.

I must say it was painful to have that image rendered impossible. I only realized now that to become this character is possible, yet I have failed. The darker side(yes I could not come up with a better name) of life has drawn me in, pulled me captive until I could not wrestle myself free from them.

At the same time I know that there was no such thing as 'identity' for me. My identity was erratic; it wasn't fixed. There was this core 'dark' me that did not change much and yet most of me still swung like pendulum across the range of things that a person could become. It was fortunate that the pendulum didn't swing too far into horrible consequences. And I have to say, it was only due to some people, and one person in particular in my life recently that stopped me from swinging too far into the darkness, until the pendulum breaks and my life lost forever.

And now I must swing it back, to the light and let it swing in the light, not in the darkness.

I see the problem clearly yet I am afraid to face it. To be in the light will be to change who I am completely, give up the ways of life that I have pursued before until my life's worth of identity built lost. I will be lost, to be reforged to become someone different.

Someone unrecognizable even by myself.

It scares me. There is no doubt that I should change. But when I change the thigns will be completely different. I passed many points of no return, only to realize that they are all nothing, except the one I stand now. There is no further to go, except a cliff. To fall down it is to lose myself completely without even the slightest hope of return.

To turn back and go back is to walk through fields of glass and thorns, then claw my way through muck and shit and dirt and all disgusting things, and finally whip myself like the repentants did in the middle ages. I am afraid. Who would not be when faced with killing your current self completely in order to be reborn?

And one most desperate question persists in my mind; what would happen to us?

One person who helped me by maintaining the link between the light and darkness, one person who left me that slight chance to come back, and one person who did bring me back, although not completely. She will be facing someone completely different, if this is to go right. She would be looking at a stranger, even. How would she see me then? Would she be disappointed, approving, loving or scared, can she accept it?

I have no choice but to think best of situations and believe. The situation is more dire than ever, though it sounds very melodramatic. I must persist. I must persevere and pull through.

And I must believe that everything work out in the end.

But you see, for a person who's never had faith in anything else but himself, that is very hard.

God never looked so tempting. To believe in a higher order and being and to rest your soul on that is indeed a tantalizing option.

Can I do that?