Distantly Bright

•February 27, 2015 • Leave a Comment

Distantly Bright


ostensibly bright
incredibly clear
apparently fruitful
conspicuously dear

evidently truthful
a quagmire of tales
treading through memories
all one finds are just ails



•February 26, 2015 • Leave a Comment



a drop, a ray of sunshine;
a pinch, a dash of starlight;
a breath, a whiff of time;
a moment lost of mine.

About January

•February 6, 2014 • Leave a Comment

me home jan 1


January? Couldn’t sleep well. Which is ‘something’ Something. I could usually fall asleep in seconds; always under a minute, no kidding. And there I was …. over a month and I would be in bed waiting …. waiting for morning.

Mom and sis were here deliberately playing coy with me after the reunion dinner. What now …. a vacation? some new household item? Bags? Trying to get them to talk, mom changed the subject and put on a panda cap I got from Beijing.

mom 1

Right …. no smiles there. I wasn’t a good son. This was one unhappy woman. Trying to ‘act cute’ I continued to cajole her. She was not about to smile one bit. I continue to try.

mom 2


No …. but better. The scowl is gone.

mom 3

Better? I should think so…

Trying …. trying ….

mom 4


SUCCESS!!! hahaha…. I tell myself I must put all this down for the record.

sis 1


Aight, to be honest, the credit goes to my caps. They decide to bring the caps back home.

me home jan 2


…… bye bye my cute cute caps ….

(aight … end of post…. not really as perspicacious as I would have prefered. but i am lazy, it’s past midnight and i have bloody hernia {so useful that one haha})


2014… > burp<

•January 8, 2014 • Leave a Comment

Awesome, thanks a lot inguinal hernia; wonderful start for the year.

임창정 – 오랜만이야 ~ Lim Chang Jung – It’s Been A While (Long Time No See)

•January 22, 2013 • Leave a Comment

임창정 – 오랜만이야

참 오랜만이란 말로 웃으며 인사하는 너
처음 널 만날 때 처럼 내 가슴이 철없이 또 뛰어
꼭 행복하라는 말로 울면서 보내줬는데
그말이 무색할 만큼 너 왜 이렇게 많이 야위었어
무슨일 있었던 거니 세상을 다 줄것 같은 그 사람과
오래오래 잘 사는게 행복하는게 그렇게 힘이 들었니

붙잡을 걸 그랬나봐
내가 더 사랑한다 말할 걸
가진게 너무 없어 줄게 너무 없어 안되는 줄 알았어
기다릴 걸 그랬나봐 네가 돌아올 줄 알았다면
혼자가 아닌 나라 널 잡을 수 없어 바보 같지만 미안해
나 다시 널 보낼게

좀 일찍오지 그랬어 너 땜에 힘들었는데
죽을 것 같았던 나를 그녀가 겨우 구해줬는데
나 왜 이렇게 못됐니 니 작은 어깨를 꼭 안고 싶어져
자꾸만 후회되는게 미치겠는게
아프게 너를 또 원해

붙잡을 걸 그랬나봐
내가 더 사랑한다 말할 걸
가진게 너무 없어 줄게 너무 없어 안되는 줄 알았어
기다릴 걸 그랬나봐 네가 돌아올 줄 알았다면
혼자가 아닌 나라 널 잡을 수 없어 바보 같지만 미안해
나 다시 널 보낼게

몰라 볼 걸 그랬나봐
널 닮은 사람이지 그랬어
내 앞에 있는 너를 애써 웃는 너를 안아줄 수도 없는데
스쳐갈걸 그랬나봐 고갤 돌리지 말걸 그랬어
멀어져 가는 너를 난 잡을 수 없어 다시 한번 더 부탁해
나 보다 더 행복해

One cloth to rule them all

•January 8, 2013 • Leave a Comment

Fried noodles

I can’t quite speak for myself when it comes to personal hygiene, I hardly ever wash my face & a jump in and out of the shower routinely takes me less than five minutes. Q-tips? Once in a while. Body scrubs, sponges & what not? How about hardly ever … if ever. But when it comes to personal space & living environment I like to maintain a cleanliness that is almost always squeaky clean, if not clinic-like and smelling like one.

Not being obsessive compulsive, but having things all neat, clean, orderly stacked up and as perfectly aligned as can be logically done at all times creates an orderliness that begets a chaos of the mind constantly. Yes it does. One tries to bring order, hygiene & ‘liveability’ to a level that brings peace and acceptance by oneself merely to incite more chaos as one constantly searches and seeks any minuscule possibility that somewhere, something is out of whack. But of course, the whack, indeed it is a huge twit of a whack, is in the house.

I love food. I love learning about food. I also love talking with people who make food so great. There are always stories to hear, lessons to learn, secrets to discover and surprises to uncover. I love food.

I love watching people cooking. How they work in the ingredients, control the fires, their deft hands cleverly waltzing around a wok, eyes watching, hands dancing, food cooking.

I love food. I love the experience of waiting for it, eating it and watching it as if I was watching some program on television, some program such as ‘This is your life!’. How it all started from a nondescript plastic bag of yellow noodles. How the chef reaches into the bag and pulls out a handful of them noodles. Throws them into a wok, cooks them and serves them on a plate.

How the helper cleans the plate for the noodles to be served on. Mindlessly like a robot wiping dry a stack of washed plates. How the cloth changes hands and wipes down the table the chef is working on. And again how that same piece of cloth ends up wiping the sweat off his forehead, and then his neck for good measure. I see it now, those plates with leftover noodles from a previous customer, being thrown into a huge pail of running water. Washed and then dried, yet again with that very same piece of cloth wrung dry. And later used to wipe the washing pail; inside, outside & underneath it all.

I love food. I have already finished my plate.

Promising myself I will never return there again, to the place where it has always been that one cloth. One Cloth to rule them all.


•December 27, 2012 • 1 Comment


Birthday wishes & a bowl of soup,

sticky-notes like a bookmark fill,

roasted meats with beer & laughter,

the last ruling judge in the OT; was what mattered,

as the fly of the may, ephemeral was to be,

swift & fleeting, thoughts keep running.

Choices were mounting, a choice it was to be,

not made, not heard, embers left burning.

Ice was freezing, pain was hurting,

not felt, unvoiced, ears kept ringing.

Those words like fusilar, inking the being,

as polaroids on an onion skin.

Little star, little star, shining so bright,

eyes made blind, where once there was sight.



Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 3,355 other followers

%d bloggers like this: