금방이라도 울어버릴 것 같은 눈을 하고있는 너에게
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2012. 12. 17.
Feel
How I feel these days:
Nothing matters. Nil. Nihilism, maybe.
Everything is so fragile and vulnerable.
Glass shatters, raining shards, the broken pieces.
I am a broken piece, a fragment.
I fake it. I fake normalcy, I fake convention.
But God knows I break.
Just a paper cut and I bleed glass fragments.
I bleed me, losing me, dying me.
But nothing matters. Nil. Nihilism, maybe.
Nothing matters. Nil. Nihilism, maybe.
Everything is so fragile and vulnerable.
Glass shatters, raining shards, the broken pieces.
I am a broken piece, a fragment.
I fake it. I fake normalcy, I fake convention.
But God knows I break.
Just a paper cut and I bleed glass fragments.
I bleed me, losing me, dying me.
But nothing matters. Nil. Nihilism, maybe.
2012. 12. 12.
Korea #1
The Starbucks cashiers were selling coffees worth double their hourly paycheck. The "no smoking" sign just outside the coffeeshop was made opaque by the thick curtains of marlboro puffs. High school clones in the same NorthFace mountain-wear, playing chimneys. Welcome to Korea.
I was strolling down the main alley of MyoungDong. I nonchalantly passed by a plastic twin or two, who must have paid costly visits to the same medical office and perhaps the same surgical room as well, and walked a bit more before entering a branch of Smoothie King for an exposure to matter slightly more natural than silicon noses.
"어서 오십시요, 행복한 스무디킹 입니다."
The greeting message was muttered by a young man in pink apron, most certainly not meaning the words he phrased, telling by the digital ringing of decibels not a bit more natural than the medical faces I've encountered some minutes ago. The auto-tune did damage to my eardrums -- Well, I am only here for a cup of mango madness.
"미친 망고 하나 주세요. 라지 사이즈로."
Taking a sip from the 16 ounce of icy madness, I grabbed a seat by the window. People. Ants. Ants. People. Madness. I stared at the people too busy to hold the door for the following person. Perhaps they are busy people with big businesses and big ambitions to take care of. But when I realized the same set of people wait in line for hours to see SNSD's comeback concert, I wasn't too sure.
Before they froze, my hands tossed the half finished drink into trash. I left Smoothie Ki
...
I was strolling down the main alley of MyoungDong. I nonchalantly passed by a plastic twin or two, who must have paid costly visits to the same medical office and perhaps the same surgical room as well, and walked a bit more before entering a branch of Smoothie King for an exposure to matter slightly more natural than silicon noses.
"어서 오십시요, 행복한 스무디킹 입니다."
The greeting message was muttered by a young man in pink apron, most certainly not meaning the words he phrased, telling by the digital ringing of decibels not a bit more natural than the medical faces I've encountered some minutes ago. The auto-tune did damage to my eardrums -- Well, I am only here for a cup of mango madness.
"미친 망고 하나 주세요. 라지 사이즈로."
Taking a sip from the 16 ounce of icy madness, I grabbed a seat by the window. People. Ants. Ants. People. Madness. I stared at the people too busy to hold the door for the following person. Perhaps they are busy people with big businesses and big ambitions to take care of. But when I realized the same set of people wait in line for hours to see SNSD's comeback concert, I wasn't too sure.
Before they froze, my hands tossed the half finished drink into trash. I left Smoothie Ki
...
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