Wednesday, May 27

berlin fashion.

[berlin. all images from stilinberlin]

[ -to Qvest]

A: hey.
have a scroll through, and tell me two words that pop to your head?

B: ugly

becoming ornaments,
the dirty and despised never found more voice
than on chosen garments of men.

Monday, May 4

what's it to me.

[ .
NY Times ]

(terrorism that's personal: a woman whose ex-husband threw acid on her face after she'd divorced him. he was not caught; she is not unique in this. a piece by nicholas d. kristoff. short, unburdened by opinion, it was a narrative stuck to my mind like a damp feather caught in a weave.)

i saw her, and then him. or perhaps more accurately, i saw this picture. it seemed one of disturbing confrontation, the kind in which you squirm not out of aggressive defense, but because you feel complicit, responsible.

i felt uncertain. here is a woman, scarred. and my righteous self calls armies to the unjust lines, bounding this woman, her son, and others like them. trample the hurtful, and jail the hateful! protect the weak, and return law to law! but for herself, do i dare conjure too many ideas about her being? she is the wronged, the victim, the ever-marked.

how dare my compassion be muddied with my ivoried ideals.

i do not know her, or her life. i do care to know, but what is it to me?

what's it to you?

a man is drinking at a lonesome bar
his bruised knuckles are primed for more alcohol
his wife is at home, trembling, flipping through the phone book
his children lie in bed, fighting their nightmares

a phone rings at an attourney's office
his specialties are domestic abuse and divorce
his secretary is taking down notes for him
his daughter lies about homework and sleepovers

a foetus is growing in her abdomen
his father's favourite pastime is pornography
his mother, the attourney's daughter, is walking to an abortion clinic
his abortionist-to-be goes to church sometimes

a pastor is preaching about the meaning of life
his parishioners think the answer is meaningless
his cousin is staring at the water below the bridge
his brother, the attourney, is crying in his office

a soldier adjusts his rifle strap in Iran
his sergeant has just shot a bomb-strapped child
his sister, the secretary, is judging the wife-beater
his professor spends his saturdays sleeping with the attourney

a drug-pusher flicks his cigarette butt into the trash
his mortgage and debts forced him into the trade
his girlfriend, the abortionist, has liver cancer
his uncle, the soldier, hates all Muslims

a politician is calling the fire brigade
his home was set alight by the cigarette butt
his aunt is a discreet elections officer
his grandson is about to be aborted

the man drinking at the lonesome bar gets a call
his in-charge wants him to get into his fire rescue gear
his inebriated driving will run over the drug-pusher
his accident will be the topic for tonight's tabloid

a society is going through its motions
what's it to you?


for those who cant do, at least teach well.

[ .lee hae seong ]
the only pic of my elusive student.

today, a kid commented this other kid in the passage was probably wasting too much time 'wrapped in her own thoughts, daydreaming'.

"that's not good right? to daydream only"
"mm. to do things without thinking is not good either right? the best is to think well, and then do."
"yes. you're right."
it might have been tough if he'd asked, "like, how?"


id started many, if most only in mind,
a thousand teeming ghosts,
- screaming truthward -

i became weary,
found blind comfort in
daily loves and solo hopes.

still, they were.
never quite raised by my hand.
and i, still am.
seeing nothing beyond.