Wednesday, December 16, 2009

the same things a year later...

in a short time i will be departing to that place where everything once was, where all my stuff is, where i used to be, where so much is familiar to me.

ill have 11 long days to see everything that i used to see. 11 days to eat all those foods that i sometimes crave. 11 days to eat salty greatness. 11 days to talk to those people i used to talk to every day.

i wanna see the things that used to give me comfort, and i want to see how they have changed, or i want to see how my mind sees them differently. if of course a mind can see something differently, im not sure about that one.

i want to drive around.

i want to use my toilet, i want to use my shower, and i want to look out my window.

i dont know what i will do first, and i dont know how i will feel, and i dont know what the weather will be like.

i cant sleep. i cant really think straight, and i dont really want to.

Wednesday, November 18, 2009



So thinking in to the past….
I think some of my fondest memories are at window seals. Why? I have no idea. I guess I do some good thinking at window seals. I remember as a child looking out my bedroom window seal. I remember as a younger child sitting in the basement while we listened to the tornado warnings on the radio, and the only thing I wanted to do was to pear out of a window seal. I remember looking out the window seal of my freshman dorm room. I have a good Polaroid of that window seal, its hanging in my room at my parents home. I remember looking out the window seal of my university apartment. I remember looking out the window seal of the hotel room when I was working in Portland. and I will defiantly remember the window seal where I live now. I remember all of them quite vividly. I can remember the colors of them, where the dust was, where the rust stains were, what the trees looked like when I peered out of those places. I kind of have two obsessions of pictures in my head. First is window seals. Second is picnic tables and benches.

Monday, October 12, 2009

old attics

I am an old attic. 

I listen to the same music i have always listened to. the stuff i remember my dad playing over and over again. the songs that we used to listen to as we rock and rolled our way to a clean house. the songs we listened to on long road trips. the songs i listened to when i lost my first love. the songs i listened to when i was confused. the songs that i listened to when i was lost. the songs that help bring a smile to my face. i can remember the feelings that slipped into my mind as i listened to them. the songs we listened to while in an empty parking lot.

I have the same thoughts that ran through my head as a young naive innocent child, the thoughts of questioning, the everyerthing that went through my head.

I like to keep old things too. I like to keep those t shits i got at soccer camps, at tennis camps, at summer camp. I like to keep my favorite shirt from 7th grade. I like everything that is old. I like old things. I like old nike shoes, i like old toys, i like old magazines, i like old things. 

I am worried I hold on to the past too much, and sometimes i wonder why. However at the same time, i am not a dweller of the past. I like to move fast, i like to move forward, i always want what is next before its here, i dont spend enough time in the present time. some   times   i   want   to   slow   down. othertimesiwanttogofaster. and yet still other times i just like to be what it is right now. i want to do my life.

~ ~ ~

right now what makes me smile.

a drink with good friends.

a look into another thoughts.

the times when we see something new in this crazy world.

the cool breeze that is now coming back to this place where i dwell.

I like to see high school students singing in a chior in front of thousands of fans, with the proud parents waving to their children, and the shivers that over come my body. those moments when u just are in awe of feelings. that can over take your body with no signs or reason, but just do. they bring smiles to your lips, and quiver your legs and arms, and warm your heart, in a way that is not very describable, yet very knowable at the same time. 

its a nice crisp pear.

~ ~ ~

I dont know what is going on in this head of mine right now. but i know its an important time. I just really need to focus on what i want, because the next little while is going to prove to be quite important. Its a chain of events that has given rise to this new brain which is trying to tell me a few things. its feelings that i have felt before coming back in new shapes and colors, and its trying to do what is right. its all this. and its this.

its nice to have something floating around in my thoughts that is always there to make me smile. it brings smiles to my face when walking around on the street, in the middle of class, while enjoying a nice quite time in my mind, while reading a book, while riding the bus, while watching tv. those smiles that just kinda creep on to your face. these thoughts are a little bit controlling, but at the same time a little bit nice.

well its monday evening, and these are the words that are flowing out from my fingers. 

Saturday, September 19, 2009

three random thoughts, from three moments in time, from three different minds, which all reside in this brain of mine.

Emotions are what we live for. Whether they are sad, dark, happy, nostalgic, longing, bubbly, silly, naïve, sarcastic, funny, or just that an emotion. The over come you, they are true, they can bring that warmth to ur face. They open you up. These are the times we know that we are living. The times when living feels right. I like that.

~ ~ ~

Sunday September 12th 12:24am
Standing alone in the quiet enjoying a last moment before the decent into my small studio apartment, a young man walks by talking on the phone, another boy on the phone passes, then a girl with short hair, a teal skirt, a white blouse, and a black sweater walks by pretending to be on the phone, then one more boy on the phone, I stood and thought about being alone in this world. Thinking about proving to the world that I am a little different. Then thinking about why I am worried about being different. Deep in thought, when a boy on a loud motorbike floats by. Disrupting the silence and my thoughts. Then to look up and see the “하숙집” sign with 7 faded numbers that couldn’t be made out. seeing that maybe that is just what life is. Knowing the name and what it is, but not knowing how to contact it. Not knowing how to ask the question, not knowing how to know.

This was written on my little orange book. I’m not sure what I was thinking at the moment but it was important enough to write down.

~ ~ ~

You know what I like? I like things that don’t make sense. Like this. There is a corridor where people walk in the subway station. And in this corridor there is no method to which side of the hallway you should walk. Where I grew up we go forward on the right. In this corridor there are four lanes, 2 electric and 2 not. On the electric you go forward on the right. On the non, you go forward on the left. This didn’t seem to make sense to me, but my mind is narrow and not accepting, so in my peabrain I thought it was un-logical. But I liked that.

I like that because it means we don’t have to be logical. We can just do. Or it means maybe we should think harder. Maybe there is a reason. Let’s over think it. Lets think about thinking and then think so more, then we can find that logic. Or we could create the logic. Or we could just be that, unlogical. Lets not think. Lets not think about it, lets just be.

Wednesday, September 9, 2009


Sometimes as I sit and think about that which all people do think about, I wonder what it is we should be thinking about. being here, doing this, learning that, reading this, watching them, and hearing smelling seeing this, I want to know what is next.

Will we be that guy that boy or that girl who was tricked into learning this and that in order to get that job, earn that money, buy that car, wear those clothes, drink that liquor, and live that happy life? Or can we live this life, thinking these things, reading these books, talking to these people, traveling to these places, not worrying about these things, and experiencing these things?

This life, that life, these lives, those lives, whose life, your life, this imaginary life, my life.

Monday, August 31, 2009


sometimes i want an eraser,
other times i dont.

today i want an eraser to look at, to adore, to gaze at, knowing that i would not use it. I dont want to erase anything. i like everything. i dont want to take anything back. not the good, not the bad. not the memories that haunt my mind. not the smiles that float in and out of my body. not the tears that have fallen, not the blood that was drained, not the scares that are seen by some, not anything. i just want to know, for me, that i would not erase anything even with the chance laying in front of me.

Saturday, August 15, 2009

So the rain has started here, and I really like it. I think I could get used to the warm weather and heavy rains. Its nice to walk around in when u have an umbrella over yourhead, no time constraints, and can just slouch around in the water wearing some slippers. It’s a nice
feeling. It really is. Sometimes its these kinds of situations where the best thoughts seep into my head. Without warning or coherence, its nice to follow them around.

So today I went to a hospital for the first time in my life, when I wasn’t going there for a reason; I had no one to visit who was in the hospital. It’s the oddest place to be in. I cant really explain the feeling but it’s a little like how i feel in airports, its strange and awkward in that you can almost peer into the minds of the passerby’s brains. You know a little bit more about this mass of people then the normal passer by, and if your head is anything like mine, you constantly make up stories about everyone u see. Its just part of my character to try to see everyone and pretend I know them. Its kinda like my new age imaginary friends.

So as I walked around I saw a lot of people. And you could see it in everyone’s eyes a since of the importance of time, and the deep thought, and the narrowed thoughts that were probably running through their heads. It is so strange to me to know so much of what is going on inside the other peoples heads. So it makes me feel really awkward inside. Its just that powerful feeling where u feel like u can read someone u don’t know and will never know’s thoughts. And see there pain, and sorrow, and yet you cant do anything about it. At all. Nothing. That is an awkward feeling of helplessness. Its seeing scars, depression, sadness, tears, fear, hate, all those feelings that are indescribable. Its wanting to wipe them allawayandthennotbeingabletodoanything.

~ ~ ~

I arrived about 40 minutes early so I sat in the Hyundai department store where I found a seat to sit and relax. It happened to be in front of the valet parking pick up. So I got to sit and watch many nice cars arrive and the owners drive off. It was a really nice experience. I really haven’t just sat, and watched people in a while.

Grandpa’s wearing topsiders volcom washed out navy shorts and a Burberry polo,
Grandmother’s wearing funky glasses,
Young Wives out with their daughters,
Husbands with their kids,

Time to sit and think while watching other people live a normal Saturday morning.

~ ~ ~

I find it funny how different people attack the same problems. How different people want to think, how they do think, what they want to think, how they think they should think, the process in which to think, the right ways to think. I don’t want to think in a way, I want to think incoherently and travel endlessly through the parallel places those thoughts want to take me. Maybe that is all thoughts are, a parallel place which might be more real than this life we are actually thinking in. or of course it could simply be thoughts in some sort of structure which have been imprinted into my brain since entering whatever world this is.

When we are lost and wondering and looking for things, isn’t life nice? I feel like some people want to know everything and pretend to be found, or pretend to not be in search. And maybe they really are found and not looking. But I don’t think I will ever be like that. There is always something to find, always something which is confusing, always a reason to continue to wonder, always something to keep me awake at night, always always always.

Its strange though, I feel like I am growing older. I am not old, nor am I really a young kid anymore. Although I still feel like im 18, and I think I always will. Its some strange mental blockade, whenever someone asks me my age my initial instinct is to say 18, but then I realize I was 18 5 years ago. There I times I want to just be a married man, not really for love because im not sure what that is. But I want to have kids. I want to love them and care for them. And its such a dilemma because cant imagine being ready for that, and I want to do so many things in life that would be more difficult with kids. But I also don’t want to forget to have kids. Or be that oldfartfather. I just want to tie their shoes. I wanna buy them icecream. I want to dress them up in vintage nike clothes, with some vintage nike running shoes on. I want to teach them about life, I want to see their eyes absorb things in that beautifully naïve way that only little kids have the ablity to do.

I also want to be really old and wise. Like grandfathers walking around with that sort of confidence in their eyes that is just what it is.

Rambling Sunday thoughts. Sunday mornings are my days of rambles and un-coherent ideas that have been on my mind while I sleep and not know what they mean.

Friday, April 3, 2009

number 6

So, the new quarter has started. I am really enjoying everything. However on the late, I have realized that the best part about not being at home in the states, is meeting new people.

Of course who doesn’t like to meet new people.

But these people are different. I have lived in one city pretty much my entire life. My family moved into one house, and we lived there through my entire schooling career K – 12. Of course I lived out during my undergrad days, but really I continued to encounter the same types of people. Sometimes you would run into a new person, with a nuanced way of thinking, and a unique outlook on the world, but that was rare.

Looking back, sometimes the most interesting people I met were the ones who I encountered at work, a small retail tennis shop, where I shared a few scattered conversations. Oddly enough I can remember these conversations vividly. Like the man who showed so much compassion and love, the lady from Chicago who gave me her very understanding viewpoint of seattle vs Chicago and her home country of Russia, the newly weds who had some great plans to travel, and the man with his daughter buying her first stick; I remember what they looked like, what their voices sounded like, and if I saw them tomorrow, I would know who they were.

Now that I am a foreigner in a new land, everyone I meet is different, has a different view on everything, and its slightly amazing. I get to meet people that I would have never ever met if I stayed in the states, and took the logical pathway into the career I, methodically?, chose. Made lots of money, and set my self up for the American dream if a life.

If nothing else, meeting interesting people has made this experience worthwhile a thousand times over again.

Sometimes I meet people that I will never see or talk to again, but a look into their thoughts has somehow changed my view in a slight way. It’s unexplainable but it’s a feeling that I can not capture in words, but I know that its important. Like the others, I remember them vividly, and will never forget.

And then sometimes, I meet people that I will meet again. That have a crazy way of thinking, that think in a way that I couldn’t have dreamt of. Is it crazy? Not really. But I don’t know how to explain it, its just nuanced and beautiful in a way that I didn’t know before meeting them. Its like not knowing what a specific type of beauty looked like, and then knowing.

It’s a retired business man, who is expecting to become a grandfather next week, who has left his fancy life in Japan to come and learn Korean in Korea. He started out his career the same way as I expect to, in public accounting. He made the switch to private industry, and worked as controller of large, well respected, and famous international companies. At the moment, he lives in a tiny room, where many university students live, and is learning Korean. He wants to be immersed in the culture, and learn what it means to be Korean. In hopes to bridge cultural differences between Japan and Korea. Grandfathers are always cool, but this guy shatters and boggles my mind. He has forever changed me with his story, which I only wish to learn more of.

And then it’s the friends I have made who are not from the states, that are from other places, that don’t know where Seattle is, and think Washington is on the east. Its really a great thing. And then there are the people from the states who are always great to talk to as well.

It’s funny I thought that being here, I would meet a lot of degens that just didn’t know what else to do in life, but come to a foreign place. Okay, I guess I should explain degens, I mean it in the least degrading way possible, if that is possible? Well anyways, yes, This is not the case. I meet people who want to work for NGO’s. People who have started out their career’s and had great jobs, made globs of money, and HAD stable, good, and respectable jobs in this crazy economy that the states is living in. Only, to pack up, and take off. They went to better universities then me, probably had better test scores then me, and are nothing close to degenerates.

~ ~ ~

Being here, I really have starting to rethink what I really want to do next, and what is important in life. As I was closing that time in my life where I went to school, and only dreamt of the days when I could be a working man. The days when was waiting to emerge into the “real world” and have my first stab at “real life”. Now I don’t know what real life is. I feel like I am in-between the two stages, and don’t really want to go back to either. How bad, or good, would it be to travel the world, take up any job you could find fit, and just scrape by with. Experience endlessly, learn endlessly, and have no obligations to anyone. Degenerate? Maybe.

Saturday, February 21, 2009

number five

"I hate to walk behind other people's ambition.
He got nervous.
Started whistling.
Every thought a ricochet."

I often just want to sit down with a friend or a stranger and take pieces out of their minds.

It has always been amusing to me how others minds work, and it has gotten me to thinking. What is the right way to think about others? I guess we all meddle, and meddle often. The real question is, is meddling okay? I have heard from some of the people who are much smarter and more versed then me, that meddling is inevitable.

If we are going to meddle, I guess we should meddle in a good way. This creates a problem that I seem to have been facing ever since I learned what the word ignorant meant (although I still don’t know what it means). It seems to me that to put oneself in a place where we can “meddle well,” that we somehow know more then whatever we are meddling.

And so it is, that I have made the choice to try to understand others the best way possible. I like to listen, and although I will always have my own thoughts on the matter, I will not always share them, because they might be irreverent. Also my mom always told me, that all problems that one faces must be solved alone. We can lend a helping hand often, but that will not help. The only thing that will is a therapeutic smile and sometimes a hand held on a park bench.

Someone once told me they were on a walk, where they encountered a doctor who appeared in quite poor health. The doctor asked for help, and the person explained that there was nothing they could do for them that they couldn’t do for them self. The doctor told the person that they indeed could help. Just holding their hand, and sitting for a while. All the doctor needed was a hand to hold and a therapeutic smile.

I guess it is this kind of story where I start to understand that help might not be the common definition where meddling is needed Sometimes the help that someone needs is not what I first think of, although I love problem solving and always will (its just how my mind works).

A silent conversation, a park bench, a smile, watching a father tie his daughters shoe, being a part of something unexpectedly nice, a painting, the reflection in the water, the sound of rain, the smell of October, and any other something that somehow fixes problems.

Sometimes when there is a problem its best just to express. Write a story, sing a song, draw a picture, paint something, make something, cook something, play something, or go to sleep.

~ ~ ~

Last night I had this dream where I was shot by a gun. The bullet entered my back and hurt a lot. I have never had a dream that I can remember where I was ever shot, and it was very weird. I don’t really understand why I had it, and what it means. However I didn’t die. I guess I need to go to sleep so I can find out the next step.

~ ~ ~

Sometimes I think I was much better at writing when I was younger. I always had ideas, and my stories were always amazing. Or at least I thought they were pretty amazing. I was an abstract child.

~ ~ ~

Really the best part of life are conversations with people. I want to talk to some little kids and ask them questions that no one ever asks little kids. Like what they think about life, like what they are thinking about right now, what makes them happy? I want to talk to some grandmas and grandpas and ask them what is on their minds. I just want to know what it would be like to use someone else’s brain.

~ ~ ~

I had a cold last week, and it wasn’t too much fun. But today I feel a lot better. I like that.

Saturday, January 10, 2009

number four

"Imagine: inside, in the nerves, in the head - that is, these nerves are there in the brain.... (damn them!) there are sort of little tails, the little tails of those nerves, and as soon as they begin quivering... that is, you see, I look at something with my eyes and they begin quivering, those little tails... and when they quiver, then an image appears... it doesn't appear at once, but an instant, a second, passes... and then something like a moment appears; that is, not a moment - devil take the moment! - but an image; that is, an object, or an action, damn it! That's why I see and then think, because of those tails, not at all because I've got a soul, and that I am some sort of image and likeness. All that is nonsense! Rakitin explained it all to me yesterday, brother, and it simply bowled me over. It's magnificent, Alyosha, this science! A new man's arising - that I understand... And yet I am sorry to lose God!"

Its weird to think about growing up with no biological people around me. Parents that don’t share the same genes. Siblings that don’t look like you. Aunts, uncles, and cousins all of whom don’t share the same biology. How has that shaped who I am as a ryan in this world; I am still unsure. However it is puzzling to think about.

What would it be like to have that other fifty percent or so of shared wavelengths, those moments when one notices similarities between one another, not by chance or upbringing but by shared genes? What is it like to look at ones brother and see the resemblance on their face? Its not saddening for me really, however it does make me wonder…

I guess I have really never thought about such a thing. Many other thoughts which may be correlated to, or similar to have entered my mind and passed, but this specific thought has never entered my thoughts.

I guess most of all I wonder how this shapes my thoughts verses that of another. Never having those moments of similarities must have some impact on how I work as a being. Does it make me more attentive to the feelings of others, constantly looking for similarities? Does it make me come to the understanding that I am indeed different from everyone else, and help to understand these differences? Or does it numb my mind, and dull my senses?

I sincerely want to know for a second what it might feel like to meet someone of similar genes as me. However, maybe it is these differences which have made me who I am now. I am kind of a big fan of mine – I like me.