Thanks for being interested in my blog

Hmm, I didn't know that so many people are reading my blog.

I'm also flattered my blog invoked some people made their own blog.

After I stopped posting, I was asked a number of times why I didn't post any more.

Well, I Hate X was a way of releasing my stressful life as a linguist, but I'm not a linguist anymore, and frankly, it still hurts me that I'm no longer a linguist.

I haven't decided if I'll keep writing here. This does remind me of things that I couldn't keep.

I just want to say thank you for your interest, and for the people who got their own blog for the same purpose, keep writing. It surely helps you figure out things.

p.s. I found a very good bar. Cheap drink, great music, and intriguing people. I feel home there.

Coming Back to You

Maybe I'm still hurting,
I can't turn the other cheek.
But you know that I still love you;
it's just that I can't speak.
I looked for you in everyone
and they called me on that too;
I lived alone but I was only
coming back to you

They're shutting down the factory now
just when all the bills are due;
and the fields they're under lock and key
though the rain and the sun come through.
And springtime starts but then it stops
in the name of something new;
and all my sense rise against this
coming back to you

They're handing down my sentence now,
and I know what I must do:
another mile of silence while I'm
coming back to you

There are many in your life
and many still to be.
Since you are a shining light,
there's many that you'll see.
But I have to deal with envy
when you choose the precious few
who've left their pride on the other side of
coming back to you

Even in your arms I know
I'll never get it right;
even when you bend
to give me comfort in the night.
I've got to have your word on this
or none of it is true,
and all I've said was just instead of
coming back to you

-Leonard Cohen

The Salt Doll

Just like the salt doll
which dived into the sea to measure
the depth of the sea,
I
who jumped into your blood
to measure the depth
of you
melted down without a trace.

Si-Wha Ryu

Birds Never Look Back When They Fly

I hated the fact that I wrote poems
that I looked back myself.
It was always I
who made my life harder.
Let's not talk about time anymore
not about the bird which flew away
after it put blood on my heart.
I was dreaming of things that I was not supposed to dream.
I was afraid
that I had to tolerate time until the day I died.
Let's not ask anymore
Things that passed my heart waving,
The times,
Things that I cannot undo.
Birds never look back when they fly.
Birds turn their head to look back
are already dead.

Si-Wha Ryu

Green mansions

I read the fascinating story once when I was 7. Thanks to my poor memory, I forgot the title.

I took a glimpse of the last scene of this movie, which seemed very similar to the story, 10 years later. All I got to know from the scene was that the actress was Audrey Hapben. Thank god, she was famous enough for me to remember.

I checked her filmgraphy a couple of times but couldn't find it.

Guess what? I've just found it. It's Green Mansions by W.H. Hudson (1904). I can't believe it took me 26 years to find one story.

Believe it or not, I've found quite a few stories and movies that I once liked in any possible way no matter how long it takes. The others, of course, didn't take 26 years.

I'm getting closer. I only need to find two more films. One was about a boy who becomes an apprentice of this crazy old man. Later he sets off a trip to find a bald eagle, which the old man spotted once. I didn't see the beginning and the ending. The title was translated as "The Sun which lost its light."

The second one was about a man keeps coming across with this girl. The girl is supposed to be dead, but for some reason she appears to him several times as a girl in different age. He gets to learn that she drowned by the lighthouse a long time ago waiting for her love. He comes there to save her since he falls in love with her. Yet, he has to let go of her hand to save his life watching her drowning again.

Any idea? I really want to find them.

The Salt Star

People living on the salt star
cannot shed tears.
Because the salt star will melt down
when they cry.
People on the salt star
blink their eyes often
to hide their tears.
That's the reason
the salt star twinkles more.

Si-Hwa Ryu

Found my sock

I've just found my sock that I thought I lost a couple of weeks ago. It was hidden inside of duvet. The duvet is white and so is the sock. No wonder I couldn't find it.

I know it's kinda weird that I'm obsessed with lost socks. I thought if I stopped buying expensive socks and got cheap shit at Costco, my obsession would go away. No. I still have it. If you keep losing a sock whenever you do laundry, you'll understand. I check if I have all pairs of socks before I do laundry. I check if there's any sock stick inside of a washer and a dryer. But I still lose a sock. I retrace everywhere, but I cannot find it. This was one of those socks that I lost like that.

I know You-Jin. You advised me to fold my laundry right after I take them out of a dryer, but I just don't like folding my laundry there.

Well, I'm happy that I found my sock before I threw the other sock. Only small things make you happy. Only a little things like this...

Get Drunk!

Always be drunk.
That's it!
The great imperative!
In order not to feel
Time's horrid fardel
bruise your shoulders,
grinding you into the earth,
Get drunk and stay that way.
On what?
On wine, poetry, virtue, whatever.
But get drunk.
And if you sometimes happen to wake up
on the porches of a palace,
in the green grass of a ditch,
in the dismal loneliness of your own room,
your drunkenness gone or disappearing,
ask the wind,
the wave,
the star,
the bird,
the clock,
ask everything that flees,
everything that groans
or rolls
or sings,
everything that speaks,
ask what time it is;
and the wind,
the wave,
the star,
the bird,
the clock
will answer you:
"Time to get drunk!
Don't be martyred slaves of Time,
Get drunk!
Stay drunk!
On wine, virtue, poetry, whatever!"

-Charles Baudelaire

I Can't Forget

I stumbled out of bed.
I got ready for the struggle.
I smoked a cigarette,
and I tightened up my gut.
I said, This can't be me,
must be my double.
And I can't forget
I can't forget
I can't forget
but I don't remember what.

I'm burning up the road.
I'm heading down to Phoenix.
I got this old address
of someone that I knew.
It was high and fine and free;
ah, you should have seen us!
And I can't forget
I can't forget
I can't forget
but I don't remember who.

I'll be there today
with a big bouquet
of cactus;
I got this rig that runs on memory
And I promise,
cross my heart,
they'll never catch us,
but if they do
just say it was me.

I loved you all my life,
and that's how I want to end it.
The summer's almost gone.
The winter's turning up.
Yeah, the summer's gone
but a lot goes on forever.
And I can't forget
I can't forget
I can't forget
but I can't remember what.

Leonard Cohen

My Honour

My honour is in bad shape.
I'm crawling at a woman's feet.
She doesn't give an inch.
I look good for fifty-two
but fifty-two is fifty-two.
I'm not even a Zen Master.
I'm this man in a blue summer suit.
My lawyer took my .32 away
and locked it in the safe.
I'm defenceless against
her arrogance.
When the world is slow
she turns to me for an easy victory.
I'll rise up one of these days,
find my way to the airport.
I'll rise up and say
I loved you better than you loved me
and then I'll die for a long time
at the centre of my own dismal organization,
and I'll remember today,
the day when I was that asshole in a blue summer suit
who couldn't take it any longer.

Paris, 1987
-Leonard Cohen

Teachers

I met a woman long ago
Her hair the black that black can go
Are you a teacher of the heart
Soft she answered No

I met a girl across the sea
Her hair the gold that gold can be
Are you a teacher of the heart
Yes but not for thee

I met a man who lost his mind
In some lost place I had to find
Follow me the wise man said
But he walked behind

I walked into a hospital
Where none was sick and none was well
When at night the nurses left
I could not walk at all

Morning came
And then came noon
Dinner time a scalpel blade
Lay beside my spoon

Some girls wander by mistake
Into the mess that scalpels make
Are you the teachers of my heart
We teach old hearts to break

One morning I woke up alone
The hospital and the nurses gone
Have I carved enough, my Lord
Child, you are a bone

I ate and ate and ate
I did not miss a plate
How much do these suppers cost
We'll take it out in hate

I spent my hatred every place
On every work on every face
Someone gave me wishes
And I wished for an embrace

Several girls embraced me, then
I was embraced by men
Is my passion perfect
No, do it once again

I was handsome, I was strong
I knew the words of every song
Did my singing please you
No, the words you sang were wrong

Who is it whom I address
Who takes down what I confess
Are you the teachers of my heart
We teach old hearts to rest

Teachers are my lessons done
I cannot do another one
They laughed and laughed and laughed and said
Well child, are your lessons done
Are your lessons done

Leonard Cohen