Thursday, December 04, 2014

The Words that are Happening

New York is happening. There are new characters to add to the story.

But the more recent past is more pressing. Words pressing against the back of my eyes. The recent past is going to Korea.

Going backward in time.

Going home.

And the whole time I could feel words pressed against my lips, against my eyes; the entire thing was a journey to somewhere, to someone.

I wondered who I would be when I got on the other side. I wondered how I could be anyone else but me, but I also know that who I was when I left is not who I am now.

So many mes.

I destroyed a me to leave Korea one year ago.

I made a me to live in America one year ago. I’m still working on making this me.

But destruction is never complete.

There are always little shards of self that linger, the broken fragments of who we have been and who we can be, floating around in the ether of the now, the experience, the continuous present. I could feel it as I fondled the tickets in my hand, knowing that I was going backward.

That time was going to be now, but that the past was going to be present in my walks down old haunts.

With this in mind the trip was carefully planned. There would be few of my old haunts, and instead I would explore now things inside the old. The old would be a shell of comfort, something I could slip into with terrible ease.

There is who I am.

There is who I was.

There is who I will be.

I needed this trip. This time to reconcile my past, to close a door. I needed to talk to the ghosts in their language to confront them, both the memory of who I wanted them to be and the reality of who they are. My people have also been the most real specters that haunt me.

Seven days.

I could feel it ticking down, seven days of immersion-language experience. Seven days of amusement and fun, of laughing, and crying, and all the other things that exist within time.

The words become my way of freezing time.

They helped me with the past and with the future. They press against my eyelids and I think about all the words I have to say. All the words that bring me together into a tapestry, a whole piece, shards and all.

New York is happening. Korea happened. Life is happening and will continue to happen, and every second will be worth it for all the words I need to express it afterward.

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