Meanderings

Night view of Han River
Originally uploaded by punk_rock_baby.

I hate when life gets stale, because than I go stale. Life was not stale this weekend. It was beautiful. There is beauty in catching a late night meal at a Mediterranean restaurant, drinking an unknown drink, while watching “Jaws” subtitled in Korean, and ending the meal watching friends dance with the workers of the restaurant. It’s in a businessman’s un-abashed joy of dancing with his wife, as children half their age dance searchingly for the one(or the one for the night). The children play, pretending, cheering, shining. But there is sadness too, as I watch men and women stand on the sidelines. For the children it is one night and every night into eternity. As it is also for the one’s who watch from the fringes, of life, of the dance floor, trying to fit in with timid moves but lapsing into blatant stares. They long to fit, to dance, to forget, to transform themselves for a moment in the frenzy and joy of dance. Hidden in the darkness, they wonder, they stare, looking for the secret of these magical creatures wanting to be one, or at least possessing one even if it’s only for a moment, a beat. Outsiders with their faces pressed to the window watching the Christmas toys dance perfectly. The flicker of the strobe breaks the darkness showing, bearing all for a second, before we lapse back into forgetful, lost darkness of youth. Later we laugh as we take online tests telling us when we will die, 84 is along why away. Loneliness and failure scares us more than death. As we stare out onto Seoul, framed by mountains and made of the twinkling of life’s lights going on and off as people live and dream,we think there is still so much to do. Wishes and wants fly about the room. Our dreams and hopes lay on our lips, wishes to be blown on the wind. We peal away the darkness, trying to discover ourselves while introducing the people we’d like to be to the people we don’t know. I stare out watching man’s stars and I fall in love with it all over again, the feeling of being at peace with being just a girl in a big world. A stranger in a strange world, still unknown, still full of hope and possibilities. Beauty, is my bittersweet pomegranate, I will eat my three seeds.

* I’m tired, it’s been a busy weekend(I haven‘t slept in my bed since Thursday night). I’m sorry if this is trite, sentimental crap(which it is). It's all I've got right now. I'm a shit of a writer, but sometimes feelings win out over sense. All I have is feelings, emotions, but then they are more important than what happened. I hope people are having a good weekend.

I hope you’ve had some beautiful moments.