I was sick several times in response to the sky that could not decide where to go. Everything I get with my five senses is full of summer and I’m totally confused, but without being able to use it as an excuse, I took on one big challenge. It was the task of selecting and arranging the necessary items one by one. I continued to wear my nerves while taking a stance that did not allow a little carelessness or even a small compromise. But It didn’t pay, and things only went as slowly as walking in the water. I was annoyed, then I came out of the water in want of oxygen and as I gasped, taking air into my lungs. And I remembered that I was struggling alone in this place 10 years ago.
Before I started this task, there was a moment when I was a little scared. Because I might burn out if this was done. But, even if. Even so, if it has means to challenge, the answer is only one. I remember that I made up my mind. But when it was over, it was not a big deal. I just had my breathing back to normal speed, and I calmly saw the next goal.
It was 10 years ago that I realized: “I have to make something that I really wanted by myself”. And the difference between those days and now is whether it is “the one who will pick up various things from now on” or “the one who has thrown away various things”. I have no intention of looking back on the last 10 years. Rather, the result will say for itself, even if I keep silent. So I don’t say anything. Even with the same zero, the quality is different.
I take photos while going back and forth between my mother tongue and some foreign languages. I noticed that every day is just a repetition. In other words, I have been touching “language” all the time I realized. The only difference between the two is whether to read, write, speak or see. When I’m writing words, I’m encouraged by their strength, and when I’m watching the image, I’m rescued by its softness. If I’m about to surrender to one of the forces, I can escape to the other. It may be a sly lifehack. However, on the other hand, I am also impressed that I have become better at maneuvering myself. So this is okay.
As I take a walk, I feel the trees growing up at an invisible speed. Surely, even little by little. Now, summer is coming again this year.
I started the thing that I was waiting for a chance for a long time. It’s a habit of occurring a small revolution in myself every day. Every time I memorize something, I feel like sparks are scattered in my brain. I would like to praise myself who said: “I have to do this now.”, but the days go by without the time to immerse myself in the lingering sound.
I am aware that it is my advantage to always try my best to tackle anything. But at the same time, it can be a weak point. After all, I am so extreme. I am like a car in that its accelerator can only be fully opened, and the brakes are not applied from the beginning. I often lose control of myself because I only have the option of “keep running” from the moment it ships until it runs out of fuel.
And then I was out of breath like that, I was surprised to look around. Because the flowers, which have been in full bloom, have completely changed their appearance to young leaves. So, I would be no match for them. I am amazed at their sophisticated change, and my immaturity. In the first place, human beings can’t win over nature. While quietly admitting my defeat, I took a deep breath and breathed in new air with the signs of the leaving spring. To continue running farther and farther.
In proportion to deepening learning about my mother tongue and foreign language, I had more time to think about the concept of “distance”. Interestingly, the rule that “distance to the other person affects intimacy” seems to be common sense at least in some languages. The term “distance” here mainly refers to something mental, and the words to be used for the others are selected or the way of speaking is changed accordingly. I have a thing that I thought: “Aha, I see… okay, I understood.”
In general, it is a virtue to share everything in human relationships, especially if they have a close relationship, and I think there is a tendency that the closer they are to the other person, it’s better. But in my personal opinion, this is a very annoying way of thinking. Like I am gonna vomit.
From the person who has a borderline that like nobody should enter from here onward, those who try to invade it are only enemies. Often, a fool with a phantom feeling of wanting to know everything about the other person will eventually lose respect for the other person. And that is nothing but a signal that one relationship is over.
Therefore, For me, a “distance” is an essential element for an object to maintain its beauty. It’s arrogant if I was disappointed with the texture of the dry rocks when I approached a mountain that I saw from a distance and felt beautiful. By the way, this is a warning to me. I want to be a person who can gracefully take out a ruler that can measure it properly from my chest at any time without losing sight of the appropriate distance.
When I look at my feet, new shoots are peeking out from under the melted snow. When I look overhead, the cherry blossoms inform the arrival of spring. Some things will end at a calm, at the same time other things will start. Every time I feel such a point in the smell of the wind, I am glad that there are seasons.
Then, while I am looking for a place where my heart can go, I put an end to some personal issues. The wall that surrounded me for a long time. It was too high, too hard, so I didn’t even touch it because I thought that I would live inside it forever. So, maybe it was just the spring’s work.
Once I decided, I didn’t hesitate. I took a deep breath, grabbed my fist, swung it, and hit it head-on. The wall broke easily. I was surprised because it was too light, but I noticed. – This wall was waiting to be broken by me. I was looking at the debris that was fluttering by the wind, I thought that it was definitely the case. Ah, …I still have space to be free.
Emotional people are grotesque, even if they have whatever reasons. So I don’t want to lose my calm whenever. Then, I thought about what I enjoy and prefer. I think they all have filters made under the same policies. The attraction lies in the process. First, the act of putting a piece of paper on the way contains a terrifying charm. Not only that, the paper cools the excess heat, and dirty things get caught by it and don’t fall off, so it’s great. Besides, the time to wait for the liquid to drip drop by drop is also beautiful.
Okay, the conditions are aligned. How close can I be to an “able paper” that suppresses my desires and feelings and extracts the results I need.
While being made a fool of by the whims of the earth, I walked on the border between warm and cold. But winter was strong. I lost to the wind what like attacks my cheeks. It drove away from the spring that showed its glimpse, and the days of hesitating to go out continued. As a result, I let go of many things. I made a ruthless decision to things that used to be part of me. I believe that every time one of those left my hand, I will be free to take a step closer. Then, I wondered how many farewells I confronted. If I am still me even if I throw everything away, what does uniqueness mean? If the fact that I existed remains in someone’s memory – or somewhere in the record even if this body decays, what is the border between alive and death?
Sometimes I dream of people who I will probably never meet again. I wake up and look at the ceiling, I notice it was a dream, and then I close my eyes again. They were so near me that I could touch them. I reflect them on the back of my eyelids once again. Then I steep myself in the hopeful resignation. When did I realize that I don’t feel relatively lonely? Perhaps it was triggered by someone pointed out, but I have perfectly forgotten it. But I guess this may be the reason. Because I can meet them whenever I hope. Sometimes it’s much more in the form of beautiful than reality.
White. People often use this color to indicate that something has not yet been dyed in any color. Moreover, as a favorable meaning. I’ve used that color to describe a lot of things, just like that. Until I witnessed the sight of the white dyeing everything.
I forgot that because I hadn’t heard the sound of snowing for a while, I could get it in exchange for all the sounds that exist in this world. Crying, laughing, and screaming were sucked into the snow as if they didn’t exist from the beginning. I was scared because I couldn’t resist it, and I wondered why the snow is such white. And as soon as I found the answer, I remembered. In the world of light, it is always white that is created after all the colors are mixed. And its strength to erase everything.
Compared to before, I correctly can love myself in much more detail. But ironically, in proportion to that, the greed of human beings is highlighted. I looked down and stopped, listing a number of issues that were still happening somewhere. Entangled in my mind of ”what equality is”, I sometimes get stuck in this way. Especially lately, I’ve been conscious of things that are out of my reach, so there is no end. When will I learn that the desire to save someone else is nothing more than self-righteousness?
The solutions already got and I just won’t forget them. To do not aim for perfection. To know that perfection is impossible. It would be great if I could do something this year than last year, and today than yesterday. My legs, which had stopped, started to work again. So I just look ahead and walk. Until the world falls asleep.
Before the world is confused, I changed the place where I live. I might should say “I’m back”, to the land where I spent 10 years 10 years ago. Naturally, I remember what I was thinking about what at that time. I believed that if I move away from here and change the circumstances, something will change at the same time. There is nothing here, but elsewhere at least not here, I’m sure there’s something special, something I hope, so, so I am…
There was a city where I moved and lived with that in mind, but my shadow followed me wherever I went. When I was walking between the buildings and I looked up at the gray sky at the same time I felt that “I’m nothing”, the shadow had so dark at my feet that I was about to be swallowed by it. When I was so crying that the scenery from the taxi window was about to be melted and blurred, the shadow became so thin at my feet that it was about to be almost disappeared. My shadow was whenever just quiet and changing the contrast like that.
Then, 10 years have passed. Now I’m just here as “I” and ended trying to separate the shadow from me. I can be said it that I gave up or I accepted. At my feet now, shined by the light of my own future, there is always a shadow of my own past. That’s fine. I just stand, walk, and I do beautiful work no matter where I am. If I can only exert my strength under limited conditions, it’s a fake no matter what. To put it the other way, an authentic person is always authentic, no matter where I am or who I am.
There was a time when I was tying myself like I was trying not to hurt anyone, and at the same time, I was trying not to get hurt by anyone. I believed that if I’m wearing the armor of justice, I would be able to protect everything someday, but the armor that was supposed to be perfect, whether I judged anyone or someone judged me, was always broken.
I can’t remember the moment I took off the armor anymore. But at some point, I decided to live naked. After all, I noticed it was hurt somewhere in my body, and what is different from the past is that I gradually became able to love that hurt too. Even if a little blood comes out, it will heal someday, so it’s okay. Even if there are scars left, I can love them. So I’m not afraid of anything anymore. I will be stronger, gentler, and more beautiful than now. I inhale deeply and deeply and I exhale deeply and deeply, then I stand majestically. To I save everything with love.
I watched the leaves changing color and continuing to fall. I was afraid that the trees that were tossed by the summer, which was too short and too hot, would go crazy, but it ended in a melancholy. How many times have I ever realized that what looks delicate is actually strong?
Whenever I really focus on something, the sound disappears from the world, like a signal. It is the moment when only my will remains in the clear air and light and I have to confront myself inevitably. As I continued to exert my tense concentration, I made a number of decisions. Then, as soon as I hear the sound of the future moving with my own hands, I regain consciousness. There is no hesitation or regret. I can do it. So it’s okay.
There was no particular resistance to the “new lifestyle”, and I love my way of adapting. The flexibility that suits the times is pleasant to see even if it is possessed by others. A too famous philosopher said that “despair” is a deadly disease. I don’t argue with that. I think the difficulty is to keep the paired “hope” convincing. In a sense, now that everyone in the world is equally unlucky, it’s hard to get in the way of keeping an eye on a bright future. All I need is steady training. In order not to lose sight of the unwavering preciousness hidden in daily life in any situation. Everything is at the mercy of fate.
I spent a lot of time organizing a huge amount of paperwork and photos about myself. I picked up my own pieces scattered all over the place and put them together. Then, I was surprised that I had written and left much more diary than I had expected now. When I opened the drawer that I had left for a long time in an old chest of drawers and found a kaleidoscope-I think people would feel like this. Whenever I look into it, it keeps changing its expression and it doesn’t make me bored. And the memories are beautiful because they look back from time to time. I was nostalgic when I traced the names of the people I used to be close to and the places I visited frequently. The place where I once spent a lot of time became a harbor that warmly welcomed me whenever I returned, in proportion to the energy I spent on it.
On the other hand, I remembered the monsters that once threatened me. They told me when I was young, “Youth is the absolute value, and you are beautiful because it contains it.” After ten years, I have now proved that it was sophistry. So listen, all the ugly monsters. Son of a bitch. No matter what aspect of my life I cut out, there is no unnecessary time in my past. And now I’m completely on top of what I have built up. People don’t change so easily. Or rather, they can’t. Even if they sometimes want it.
At every stage of my life, I have the pride of living with people and things that can be said to be special to me at that time. And that (of course) becomes more pronounced as I get older. On the contrary, these days, in addition to building my own history, I also love the path that someone else has already taken. That’s why I also want to make something that is meaningful to leave and protect what is worth leaving. It’s a thing that they usually wear so casually that they forget even its importance, but when they realize they need to let go, they don’t want to let go. Or, it’s a thing that they can’t just throw it away no matter how many times they move. It’s a thing that the true value of it appears in the important phase.
When I noticed, I was looking up at the sky, and every time I looked up at the sky, I followed the cirrocumulus with my eyes. The beginning of autumn is probably the season when everyone is worried about that loneliness. As proof of that, I can immediately list a number of works bearing the name of “September” just by coming up with them. Ironically, I was born in such a month, and I got older.
To put it bluntly, I think it was a break that focused on studying foreign languages. It’s the fear of forgetting the words that I should have learned before, from the moment I learn a new word. It’s frustrating that I can’t tell the other person what I want to say. It’s despair similar to giving up, saying that no matter how much I study, I can’t call it fluent. I guess learning a language other than my mother tongue is like carrying on that kind of frustration and continuing to scoop the sand with my own palm. But I’m a fool, so I can’t forget it. That day, I saw a strikingly shining little grain in the sand that fell from the side I saved as if all the meanings that were born were manifested there. When I thought I saw it at a glance, it passed between my fingers and never returned. I want to see that brilliance with my own eyes only once again. That’s why I continue to scoop sand alone in the desert today without drinking water.
I have always hated naming relationships between me and others, let alone classifying them as if they were to be displayed on shelves. (Furthermore, there are still people trying to get closer to me, waving a frameset by someone like that, and it’s really annoying). I think that people who believe that they can “understand” each other even though they have different genetic information are crazy. Because, for me, “love” means accepting the other person as it is, without denying it even if I do not understand the other person. And every time I breathe, I wonder what “common sense” is. Isn’t it “common sense” to always be aware that what is natural for someone can always be abnormal for someone else (and vice versa)? So… it’s nothing. So just we are we.
For the last few months, I have been working on the output of my own voice that is ringing inside me. As a result, this summer was too short. The changes in my own values over the last few months have been such that my life has been repeated. That’s how much changed for me. And I gradually began to understand what I really needed. That is if so, everything is just. Perhaps this is what I feel when I look at the little things left on the beach after the tide has gone.
I have a thing that I remember clearly. “In the end, people can only express what they see as they see it,” the moment I truly realized. Fortunately or unfortunately that day, all my “enemy” disappeared from this world, leaving me alone. I was struck with just the same amount of heat from the hopes and despair of each half, and irritated by the contradictory feelings, I resented the existence of the god who gave the proposition, “Prove that this world is beautiful.” We must seek all the truth in the dark and keep showing it to the world, while at the same time taking all of its responsibilities. Isn’t it called punishment? But I understood that such a question was already empty. Because no matter how If I do anything, I already can’t go back to the world I was in before I even noticed “it”.
Make or break, dead or alive. If so, there is no choice but to do it. It’s reasonable. If the thing I receive with my five senses is beautiful, especially when the scenery I observe is beautiful, and I am beautiful, it can be proof that “this world is beautiful”. What is needed is to continue raising the “zero” level. At least at now, that’s all I need.