16 September 2009

Stark.

The deposit had gone through. The paper proof was in his hand. His name was there, among those of others, and it occurred to him how long it had been since he had last read his full name in print. He squinted at the four compact portions of ink.

He read the statement through twice before folding it up and tucking it into his wallet. He had expected himself to be a difficult conversion, and was surprised to find the brief document to be enough. He believed.

His faith sealed, he rejoined the city. It had not changed. He tried to place new meaning into the obvious symbols (the waning sun, the crisp air) but failed miserably. Instead of being able to see things anew, he was only capable of fine tuning his usual, tepid manner of observation. He saw the smaller specks of dust that floated within rays of sunlight. The cooler pockets of air that one occasionally encounters on a breezy day were colder by a couple more degrees. Annoyed by these useless details he began to walk. He was homebound for a block or so. Then it became necessary to deviate, go searching for a new experience that would more properly align with the monumental event that had taken place.

He considered a bar, and passed it by without breaking his stride. He did not want to be seen by a familiar face, someone who might be able to detect a change in his demeanor before he himself could. He would consider it to be a handicap. He regarded the sun, the specks of dust, and decided to return when the sun began to set. He crossed the next street with vigor, feeling better now that he had been, once again, assigned a place to be and a moment to arrive at.

16 April 2009

Latest Apprehensions

1. Keanu Reeves, you are seriously encroaching on my Super Fun Asian Girlhood Double Nostalgia Time by insisting on starring in a Hollywood adaptation of Cowboy Bebop. If you ruin it I will kill you. I will summon the teenage beast within me to do so.

For reference see:
Super Fun Asian Girlhood Double Nostalgia Time Memory:


Super Poor Choice of Casting:


2. I really hope I can get through this summer.

14 April 2009

Predicament

"To be immortal simply means that you will outlive everyone. Thus, the relevance of immortality will dissipate when fulfilled. There are two paths to infinity: you can either go on living forever or you can be dead forever. The former option is attractive only in its familiarity. Once there is nothing left to die and everyone has attained infinity, you will understand that you do not have the upper hand... you alone will never know what is on the other side. You alone will be left questioning."

-Manhattan Corbacher, confirmed immortal

31 March 2009

The Complexities of Unproductivity

I have been writing about Manhattan Corbacher since I was sixteen years old. I am now twenty three and nothing has been completed.

The futility of my effort is understandable: He is immortal. I am not.

I have begun to draft random informational pieces about his daily life in an attempt to achieve full comprehension of his identity. Basically, I am writing a biography about a fictional character in the hope of eventually figuring out his story.

As if this was not unnecessarily time-consuming in and of itself, I've taken to chronicling his infinite life span in intervals of two seconds.

I am doomed. It's okay. So is he.

2 Second Biographies (III) - Mr. Corbacher peels off a Nighttime Rejeuvenation facial mask.

He imagines rubbing out a freckle

truncating the reign of a melanic dynasty,
a myopic aspect of his being since the summer he turned seven

and suffered his first sunburn.

30 March 2009

2 Second Biographies (II) - Mr. Corbacher retrieves Miles Davis' "Kind of Blue" from a crate in his attic.

Within the transitory silence between titles he re-discovers a color
simultaneously rose and asphalt

the very hue of a misplaced hair-pin
belonging to an ex-girlfriend from whom he last extracted himself

half a century ago.

2 Second Biographies (I) - Mr. Corbacher takes a tentative first sip.

During the harried aftermath of yet another false alarm
this one caused by a too-hot beverage (a take-away container of morning coffee)

he snaps his head backwards.

As he allows his tongue to furl towards the back of his throat
he dissects the situation, aided by recollections of similar episodes

and wonders if anything is different.

05 March 2009

with the qualities of a pheasant

Granted, this is hilarious even if you weren't raised within range of a Korean-American community whose cultural events included bouts of old-people karaoke...

But the sheer accuracy of it all! The way Bret squints at the lyrics, like so many middle-aged Koreans whose visions are weakening! The inevitably mortifying dance he is somehow compelled to perform as he relaxes into the song! The barrage of random stock footage in the background!

Also, he has excellent pronunciation! Like creepily excellent. Like better than people I know who've been living and studying in Korea for years excellent.


Vertical.

17 February 2009

This is how you will achieve perfect symmetry.

Your heart, it palpitates so irregularly because it has already left you for an apocalyptic sect of late night infomercial fame.

Your remaining singular organs are fast approaching similar epiphanies--

Like your liver seeking God during inappropriate moments: uttering frantic dissections of hallowed syllables during office parties.

When these porous prophets seep sarin from ribcage slats your lungs are first to splatter their soggy masses against one another

though your kidneys are swift to follow suit; knotting together in preparation for the inevitable enlightenment.

Your brain expels from your body, poisoned and shrieking. It squirts a moist trajectory 25 centimeters long

before shriveling into two piles of dust, identical to the very last particle.

13 February 2009

Concrete

There has been a great lack of pictures.

But right now I am thinking of empty parking lots and the quiet significance they hold within a suburban upbringing.

There are specific moments, like a well-aged American vehicle belonging to someone's dad idling by the self-pump row outside the Stewart's. I darted out of the store and there were a few seconds that felt meticulously terrifying. It was as if someone with a vast anatomical expertise had made an invisible incision in my cerebrum knowing that it would somehow culminate in the misperceived malleability of the asphalt that night.

Then there are those series of remembrances that blur and interlock into a panorama of ghosts. Like my first make-out session, which is actually all the make-out sessions that happened one winter. We spent hours on every corner of closed-for-season parking accommodations for college sporting facilities.

The longer I remain alone the more my previous values appear to me as abstracts. I yearn for stretches of concrete more than the people I used to tread upon it with. I feel estranged from my own memories. I could feel liberated by this, but I could also feel utterly demented.

I am not entirely sure which I prefer.


***(Stewart's' are an upstate New York chain of gas stations that are also famous for their ice cream.)

04 February 2009

Sometimes. (Most of the time.)

I think of time and space
as akin to hundreds of tons of metal
an oncoming train perhaps
or a fractured passenger flight steaming a sharp trajectory
towards my leaky skull.

23 January 2009

365 (Jan. 12th - Jan. 16th)

FRIDAY Jan. 16th 2009


THURSDAY Jan. 15th 2009
Sylwia.


WEDNESDAY Jan. 14th 2009
FAIL

TUESDAY Jan. 13th 2009
SUPER FAIL

MONDAY Jan. 12th 2009
This is Greta Danisova. She's fourteen and fucking awesome.

22 January 2009

365 (Jan. 1st - Jan. 11th)

So apologies, apologies.

Good news: I HAVE been taking pictures. More or less on a daily basis. As planned.

Bad news: Due to extreme extremes at the payroll factory, I have been unable to make it to the photo store during operational hours to pick up the film I have been dropping off in their overnight bin.

And without further excuses: ta. da.

SUNDAY Jan. 11th 2009


SATURDAY Jan. 10th 2009


FRIDAY Jan. 9th 2009


THURSDAY Jan. 8th 2009


WEDNESDAY Jan. 7th 2009


TUESDAY Jan. 6th 2009


MONDAY Jan. 5th 2009


SUNDAY Jan. 4th 2009


SATURDAY Jan. 3rd 2009


FRIDAY Jan. 2nd 2009
FAIL

THURSDAY Jan. 1st 2009