This was 17 years, 2 months, 15 days ago

it's good to be back sometimes, I suppose. I do miss living here, identifying with these places. I came back and bridges got flashier, things with more lights, larger sans-serif fonts with larger designs, the 2-line gets platform barriers, a new building sprouts in 잠실, cars with emergency lights in department store parking lots. I went out today and thought about the size of these subway cars, the stance and method in which people assemble themselves, stand facing outwards, away from the center, the rows and rows of sodium lights, another bus looking out a window reading and listening. oh man man.

I say this all incoherently and haphazardly and stupidly unedited but to have trust in the in-between and to describe this momentary return is like describing faint notes of taste, or a proustian madelineian reminsecence immediate momentary and piercing:

today I was looking out the window when I saw the side of the bus and something that reminded me of something other else, didn't really matter, less subject than presentation. I could feel my spine stiffen and this - oh this these things at the core of things - this initial jerk, slight slip sideways at recognition, a burp in the process of a slight alignment of the past.

gosh, memory is a funny thing, and this oscillation is as well, and to return back here is to 1) attempt to accept this place for where it is, (which really means that I attempt to accept the union set of the inverse sets of me and this place, what-we-both-don't-have-in-common), 2) identify my own lack of identification, ascertain the degree with which I am distanced and external, (and in the constant permeation of a mainly streaming culture to lose all of these wit-ful humor references, whatever),

to 3) return and to attempt to assign great meaning or symbolism to the idea of return itself, memory itself, a sentimental romanticization of the idea of cities and leaving, apparent disconnect, et cetera et cetera.

I'm tired, all I know is this feeling of the under, depth, a grounded sodium orange accented by the sensation of float, of gentle and inculpable disconnect,