I can see hundreds of conversations taking place right now. I’m out of all of them. I’m the ghost of things unsaid. the world is spinning and books are being read and analyzed and I’m alone in my bedroom plucking strings. Everyone knows they’re not supposed to ask me about Korea or my favorite author or why I always draw people with pointy fingers. Everyone knows I don’t have an answer. Documents filled with letters. 100101010100001 line after line after line. Print. Staple. Hand in. Silence. Back to my room—what do you think, ukulele? You sound like my heart.
Category: Rant
The Foreign Language Center at the University of Tsukuba has kindly accepted some of my writings for publication at their journal. Here are the links to the pdf files for you to read. They’re under my real name, which I’m not really happy about but oh well. I hope you enjoy them.
tear my hair away
shrink me into perfection
make me a woman
It starts this way.