Like a broken machine, just barely slipping into the start of my day, I awake but at the wrong time. Life crying out to be lived. Old bone's tales. My proof is my laughter, and in the lurking sense of absence shadowing me. I am long for this world. This cold Korean world. It's business as usual here. Nobody thinks about the concept of 'threat', except maybe the threat of being asked to leave. Within a week. All smiles. How attitudes can burden soft underbellies... are humans still soft? I've forgotten.
Here I am, an island at last. ok, maybe it's self-exile, ok maybe a part of the glorified and fortified corporatocracy. We worship the san, a mountain of money. Samsung, so strong that even the once wild are cowering in its red circle's gaze. Watched all the time, inside of social media, and from cameras, every five meters along the corridors. Who can be sure? Your passwords can't change fast enough. I have no choice but to trust this. I didn't really time this well.
But I can say this- everything you hold as a given, that flippancy with which you assault those whose views differ, those freedoms, those rights, are creative matter like clay. They can fall and break.
You'll see, if you come here, and stay like I did. You neither belong nor matter. Replaced over and over; I have befriended you and watched you disappear into the light. I long for what might have been. I am less creative. I am matter. Alma mater. Alma is soul en español. I had children. Did I give them my soul? Am I exiled for real?
We all wriggle upward like sea cucumbers, grotesque and statuesque. Food for traditional Gods.
Unable to hold the tongue any longer, unable to lick the corridors of power: screams a blood-curdling alarm. How can anybody be so angry?
Republic of Korea
I am me, non-binary, English-speaker. Neither here nor there. Unadorned, unconditional and trying to just be, in a world of hypocrisy, selfies, and bombast, I am neither here nor there. I apologize for nothing. I know I am faulted but I enjoy the laughter.