I wanted to know more about you.
Know more about what you liked.
And why I seemed to no longer be one of those things.
But now, sometimes, I crave their sound.
But can't seem to separate you from it.
It calms me in the wrong way.
Wednesday, August 27, 2014
14.08.27
I started listening to them because of you. You mentioned you liked them and I got curious.
Tuesday, August 12, 2014
14.08.12
Remember that time we first spoke?
On the bench. At the bus stop. It's your first day of CEGEP. But not mine.
Remember that time you invited me out?
With the rugby team. To that sketchy old man's bar. You are underaged. But not me.
Remember how I'd go to your house?
We'd sit and drink beer and pretend we had grown up.
Remember how I invited you out that night?
To my friend's party. You didn't show. When I called you, you let your girlfriend answer.
Remember how we didn't talk for a long time?
Remember how I moved away?
And your messages started coming back. Silly messages. Provocative messages. Messages that make me smile.
Remember how we became friends?
Many, many years ago. Many miles ago. Many girlfriends and boyfriends ago. Many friends and acquaintances ago. Many tears, many laughs, many smiles ago.
On the bench. At the bus stop. It's your first day of CEGEP. But not mine.
Remember that time you invited me out?
With the rugby team. To that sketchy old man's bar. You are underaged. But not me.
Remember how I'd go to your house?
We'd sit and drink beer and pretend we had grown up.
Remember how I invited you out that night?
To my friend's party. You didn't show. When I called you, you let your girlfriend answer.
Remember how we didn't talk for a long time?
Remember how I moved away?
And your messages started coming back. Silly messages. Provocative messages. Messages that make me smile.
Remember how we became friends?
Many, many years ago. Many miles ago. Many girlfriends and boyfriends ago. Many friends and acquaintances ago. Many tears, many laughs, many smiles ago.
Wednesday, July 2, 2014
14.07.02
"I once saw a shoe...," my mother would say.
The shoe of a man...
"... it was so scary..."
...who had jumped in front of a subway.
"So...?" I would say, "You didn't see it happen..."
But now I understand.
There is a curious kind of trauma that is caused by the sliver of time separating a person from witnessing a terrifying event. Five minutes too early. Ten minutes too late. But I was there. And now everything is different. And I'm not sure how to feel.
A man set himself on fire on Sunday.
2 pm.
Shinjuku, South Exit.
I went to the bank on Sunday.
1:30 pm.
Shinjuku, South Exit.
I looked towards Lumine and saw fire trucks. But there's been so much road work these days, I think. Nothing special. I head downstairs to pay my bills, and head underground towards the station.
I saw fire trucks.
30 minutes later they were used to put the flames out on a man who had climbed up onto the bridge at Lumine.
I must have seen the man. But I wasn't looking for him.
I must have walked by all the commotion, with only a thin wall protecting me from what was going on.
"I saw fire trucks," I told my parents.
"But it didn't happen to you," they said.
The shoe of a man...
"... it was so scary..."
...who had jumped in front of a subway.
"So...?" I would say, "You didn't see it happen..."
But now I understand.
There is a curious kind of trauma that is caused by the sliver of time separating a person from witnessing a terrifying event. Five minutes too early. Ten minutes too late. But I was there. And now everything is different. And I'm not sure how to feel.
A man set himself on fire on Sunday.
2 pm.
Shinjuku, South Exit.
I went to the bank on Sunday.
1:30 pm.
Shinjuku, South Exit.
I looked towards Lumine and saw fire trucks. But there's been so much road work these days, I think. Nothing special. I head downstairs to pay my bills, and head underground towards the station.
I saw fire trucks.
30 minutes later they were used to put the flames out on a man who had climbed up onto the bridge at Lumine.
I must have seen the man. But I wasn't looking for him.
I must have walked by all the commotion, with only a thin wall protecting me from what was going on.
"I saw fire trucks," I told my parents.
"But it didn't happen to you," they said.
Sunday, June 15, 2014
14.06.15
Everything reminds me of you.
There are remnants of you everywhere. The coat I saw you sewing dresses a mannequin. The finished products of those drafts you spoke to me about so lifelessly at that KFC that night we randomly grabbed supper together hang in the back room. The desk I sat at while you and her went to see that show, stuffing popcorn into cups. There was a big quake that day.
The desks outside where you and I sat not a month ago when so many things were still in the air. The desk at which you sat when you made that joke about the flowers. I see the others we went out with that night and I think of you.
The garbage can where you gave me such a cold look.
The desk you drew patterns that day I brought you chocolate.
The halls where you snubbed me time and time again.
The walk from the entrance to the convenient store that time we shared my umbrella. It's rainy season now too.
That time last year when we got to hear the 3rd years' presentations and I happened to walk in on yours. Today was my turn, you know. But of course, you weren't there.
It isn't love. But I fight the urge to send you messages every day. Maybe I'm just bored.
But...do you ever think of me?
There are remnants of you everywhere. The coat I saw you sewing dresses a mannequin. The finished products of those drafts you spoke to me about so lifelessly at that KFC that night we randomly grabbed supper together hang in the back room. The desk I sat at while you and her went to see that show, stuffing popcorn into cups. There was a big quake that day.
The desks outside where you and I sat not a month ago when so many things were still in the air. The desk at which you sat when you made that joke about the flowers. I see the others we went out with that night and I think of you.
The garbage can where you gave me such a cold look.
The desk you drew patterns that day I brought you chocolate.
The halls where you snubbed me time and time again.
The walk from the entrance to the convenient store that time we shared my umbrella. It's rainy season now too.
That time last year when we got to hear the 3rd years' presentations and I happened to walk in on yours. Today was my turn, you know. But of course, you weren't there.
It isn't love. But I fight the urge to send you messages every day. Maybe I'm just bored.
But...do you ever think of me?
Saturday, June 14, 2014
14.06.14
"I have to buy a gift for my friend...for his birthday..."
"Oh yeah? Well my birthday's coming up! You gonna buy me something?"
"No."
"...I see how it is..."
"I only buy presents for people I've known a long time. I've known him for over ten years. It hasn't even been a year since we've known each other. For all I know, I might forget who you are by the time next year rolls around."
"...?"
"A friend of mine from first year moved back to Korea and we didn't talk for a long time. He called me up the other day and I honestly couldn't even remember his name. People fade away over time."
Wednesday, May 14, 2014
14.05.14
"Everything was fine when we were all together. But when just the two of us went to the bank afterwards, it was so quiet and awkward and I just really don't know..."
"Do you think maybe he was just nervous?"
"...?"
"Nervous to be around you?"
Could this have all just been one big misunderstanding? I really don't have the energy to try this whole thing out again right now, but could it really just all be that simple?
"Do you think maybe he was just nervous?"
"...?"
"Nervous to be around you?"
Could this have all just been one big misunderstanding? I really don't have the energy to try this whole thing out again right now, but could it really just all be that simple?
Saturday, April 26, 2014
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