Skip to main content

Busan: Urban Jungle (Christmas Melancholy)

Smiles wherever, smiles are free. Jungle life for the Christmas tree. Blue moon, blue sod, blue wind; fighting through the flesh, diminishing strength, and solidifying procrastination. Nampo-dong, how I miss thee.

A cup of cake, a Red Velvet, and an ever-friendly face. Is it true? You are my saviour, my light, when all else faded. Why. Why you. Why did it have to be you?

How close was I to sin when the tape ran smooth on my prickly and battered fingers? Weeks and weeks I laboured, and weeks I endured the wrath of longing. The moth torched her wings when I ignited it ad hoc. It was not my intention. It was all for the subject of love. 

And now it's over. The lights have come. We run away from things which we quickly realise are nothing but herrings. Christmas in Nampo-dong is for love and healing; but my heart is reeling, and my tears are killing. It's over now. Or is it?

Is it the love that I feel which is inextinguishable? Mioseon. Charm. Tough as nails; collapsing the gumption we both shared overnight, over time, over love, over me.

Then here lies Seomyeon, all Christmas-less. Like the tides of Valentine sweeping through the valley. Tip, tap, boom. You reckon no less than a shot of soju would silence the pain, but no. Tip, tap, kaboom. Everything else, everyone else, is gay and lolly.

Not me. No, no. I cannot feel it. Not now, not then. Only within the crevice of the hoi polloi do I manage to flounder about my folly, tinkering other people's humour with my own insecurities, sheltering myself from the borderline violence burning deep inside. Let's not dwell on the past, please. The future is ripe for potential. 

Pampering complexities, making each and every move a go-to memory. There is less and less to see, and more to feel. So much more. It ends. It all eventually ends. We all die, and we all lived merrily after Christmas. So much for the vibe of the Seomyeon youth. We all live to make sacrifices bearable to the human soul. Pain, anguish. Blue moon and sod and wind.

Merry Christmas. I miss you, love.

Popular posts from this blog

And then...

Four hours and ticking and I cannot seem to be copacetic to the privacy of her suspicious absence. How could I be when frightening tremors had shook their country just earlier today? It has been quite common to read about earthquakes rocking Italy recently, and the more these events take place, the more people feel less surprised about the fatalities. At the moment, I can sit on this chair being bothered by Starbucks personnel every half an hour or so, waiting for updates of Miriam's whereabouts. Surely she would be safe. I suppose my fears always come back to bite me in my arse. This is a farcry from mine fears. Far be it from the truth, I will not let it tear me asunder. She will be back to me soon enough, and then it would not take long before she will be in my arms, singing praises of our love, beneath the starry sky and our duvet. There is this unusual feeling of dread knowing that tomorrow I will be once again immersed into a job that I do not love; a return to form; of bei…

Strange Fruit

I had recently adorned a vow of silence for myself with Miriam for no apparent reason whatsoever other than to suit my whim, and, regardless of the pettiness associated with this misdemeanour, I pray this will only strengthen us both in spirit for the coming days. The coming days are definitely not meant for one such as me.
In the next few hours, not shortly before I am done with this piece, this vow will be disavowed. Miriam is sleeping soundly in my right, broken by the exhaustion that seemed to catch her unaware. This was not what she had prepared for when coming to London. This was not what I meant for her when I asked her to come. In order to alleviate the guilt of me making it more difficult for us both, I do what it is that I do best, and that is to love her hungrily and wildly. And some little bit of swag on the side to cure her state of frustration albeit temporarily.
My days are long and yet wields very little. For now I do and take whatever I can, whenever I can. A grand f…

Uff

Call it a burning desire to urinate on the system that we as people have established; status quo. Felt a huge fluctuation of anxiety when I finished this day earlier than what I would have thought or expected, and it was technically my first day of job (again), and huge surges of this same rhetoric came pouring back in when Miriam and I have not been having proper back-and-forths since yesterday. It was as if we had lost interest with one another just like that. Either that or I have been consumed by the same system of dependency. The bug that I caught long ago that ruined me to smithereens.
The long-winding hours, that which I felt was necessary, was to be a time of reprieve and a time to catch breath. It turned out to be much more toxic that it should be, and it came to pass faster than it should and I now feel poisoned and abused by the thought of having allowed this in the first place. Tomorrow is what I would consider a real test of my endurance, when I work from seven in the mo…