This was 16 years, 9 months, 19 days ago

While waiting for a phone call from you I think about the nature of summer break and the sense of laziness dust settling interim periods that they convey. Here I am sitting in an apartment that creeps away from Seoul and crawls towards fresh air slowly, every few years or so, like some ex-terranean hermit-wizard lair moving eastward and future-ward, legs protruding, ground slowly swirling. The sense of time spent doing nothing washes by coagulated in the sounds of kids' voices on playgrounds and passing cars, and the progress of shadows as they swing from corner to corner pivoting at the edges of objects, bedframes, doorjambs. As I stand in the bathroom thinking about the sticky-heavy moments just before a phone rings I convince myself of the rejuvenating nature of these moments -- not necessarily therapeutic but some sort of marinating force, (ha ha cooking metaphors), like the end of a novel (probably paperback) closed with a content enough sigh and active retrospection for a piece of present-now-past held in the hands.

And so I'm here having come here, two years, constantly swiveling my head looking sideways here and there noticing things changed, turned. Coming back out of Jamsil station I notice another building completed, things busier, the line waiting for the 1115 bus still long as usual.