hm

things are strange.
i want to be sure.

a memory, a remembrance

because i'm papering and because g.o.d.'s "road" just came on...
a vision of that small motel room my mom, ray, and i stayed in during the first or second night of my grandmother's funeral in korea-
the tv, with the starcraft channel on, the pinup calendar on the wall, the feel of the scratchy and netlike cloth, the bathroom with a showerhead and no curtain, and the faucet that didn't work unless you knew how to turn it...
the feeling of night and not knowing what was next, but staying in this room for the time being, and simply thinking on what had happened, and the day to come. the three of us in close proximity.
there is something about the countryside, that countryside in korea, and the small inconveniences or oddities or quirks i can remember- the very everdayness of it, the rustic and simple, and perhaps the reminder and feeling that i am not so far away from nature, that there is no gap provided by technology and solid walls and central air-conditioning to allow me to forget the nearness of the earth, and my own frailty-
that make it very, very dear to me.

it feels like real life. something i can cup in my hands.

school on break

i wish school was always this:
sitting on my bed, with cool and light coming through the window,
thinking about what i want to think about, learning deeply,
marveling at what has been done, and what will be done
wanting to talk to my professors
having time, now, and tomorrow, with no thought of busyness or schedules to come and press in on your day.

but no papers, no.

if each student just sat in his bedroom and thought, and did something great, or meaningful, or beautiful, how much more we would have.

i'd like to read right now, and eat an apple, or perhaps watch a movie or listen to music. mm.
papel time.