Category: Background Noise

Caveat: just to drown out in the city of lakes

Background Noise / Not My Poetry

What I'm listening to right now.

Sims, "Tape Deck."

Lyrics.

(Baby I'm all… Minneapolis, in the midwest)

Welcome to the tired generation of pliered patience
we're the tossed pennies, the Reaganomical waste kids
but look at me, broken link off every socialites token blink
thinking I'ma change shit
I don't want your nomination
my name is Sims, freedom fighter writer trapped in cat's cradle
Doomtree that's phat the label (Yeah)
so hang from your halo, but I spit mud on your Dockers
not trying to graduate to a Craftmatic adjustable office
turn your brain waves on and off like water faucets
I'm astonished stomping through the modern process
so I rally around stone throwers
my bones colder than icebergs
titanic havoc wrecking shop with Christ slurs
twice burned for advice learned before I met hesitation
open visitation for a dead generation
so wake the fuck up, I'm running out of patience
wake the fuck up, you're sleep walking
wake the fuck up

(Come on man, listen to this shit)
(Wake up)

We were born agitated seeds but grew into apathy
half of me wishes out of this modern catastrophe
but I've got my nine millimeter mouth to blasphemy
twelve steps to being a better self but the ladder collapsed on me
casually humanity becomes a casualty of
graphic mastery, a mental masterpiece
but the pieces spit out my mouth like faulty orthodontics
unorthodox phonics and chronic smoke choke on autopilot
a fleet of Palm Pilots disperse from universities
what's worse meaning isn't surfacing, time to face
how can y'all take the days straight without a purpose to chase?
there's more to life than grades, work, then graves

Put the tape in the tape deck
Yo put the tape in the tape deck
(My life, my life, my life's a fucking mess.
Minneapolis)

Next year I might be 25 light beams ahead of myself
(might) be 25 cents richer depending on my shelf life
ain't what it seems but I've got one to bleed
so save up a fuck for the agitated seeds
smashing piggy bank dreams
saturated breed, soaked in fat and granite
planted on this planet next to the blaze that we didn't raise
we saw the flames and fanned it
now I'm annexed to vexed manic panic status, I got next
ante up your war machine mechanics and pension checks
they're out their right mind
I threw a left cause just to stop the motive
duly noted as I throw my clear thoughts in their gearbox
it's like there's one typewriter and a million fucking Xerox
so save those peer props about beer gogs and gear rocked
cause you got steered lost

Put the tape in the tape deck (I crank the mix tape and wait for the break)
Yo put the tape in the tape deck (I crank the mix tape and wait for the break)
I just don't think you're good that's all (I crank the mix tape and wait for the break)
(Minneapolis)

I crank the mixtape and wait for the break
just to drown out in the city of lakes
I crank the mixtape and wait for the break
just to drown out in the city of lakes
I crank the mixtape and wait for the break
just to drown out in the city of lakes
I crank the mixtape and wait for the break
just to drown out in the city of lakes
I don't wanna be a part of your workforce
I don't wanna be a part of you problem
I don't wanna be a part of your workforce
so I guess I'll be that thorn in your side

(I have to start all over again.
Ain't that the damnedest thing?
Loneliness.
Did ya know that loneliness will kill you deader than a .357 Magnum?
Did ya know that?)

[daily log: walking, 6 km]

Caveat: to teach reason reason

Background Noise / Not My Poetry

Credibility

Who could believe an ant in theory?
a giraffe in blueprint?
Ten thousand doctors of what's possible
could reason half the jungle out of being.
I speak of love, and something more,
to say we are the thing that proves itself
not against reason, but impossibly true,
and therefore to teach reason reason.
– John Ciardi (American poet, 1916-1986)

What I'm listening to right now.

Krzysztof Penderecki, "Symphony No. 7."

[daily log: walking, an inch]

Caveat: Singing About Meatloaf

Background Noise / Banalities & Journaling / Found Online / Media (Texts/Music/Movies etc) / Philosophy & Cultural Criticism

What I’m listening to right now.

Tiny Cowboy (AKA Oasis), “Meatloaf.”
This song is embedded in an episode of the the almost Cervantine cartoon Phineas and Ferb. The group “Tiny Cowboy” seems to be a fictionalization of the real brit alt rock group Oasis.
The sophisticated and multi-layered writing on this Disney children’s cartoon, which [broken link! FIXME] I mentioned before, continues to amaze me as I occasionally sample episodes during my free time. Either that, or my senility is advancing too rapidly, and I’m perfectly content to just sit and watch cartoons.
A deconstruction of Star Wars:

[daily log: walking, 6 km]

Caveat: That Was Somewhat Disappointing, I guess

Background Noise / Banalities & Journaling / My Videos / The Wonders of Work

I thought I would feel happy when the show was over. Instead I felt angry and depressed.

To the extent I was supposedly the show's manager, I felt the project was badly managed. So that's annoying. "No one to blame but myself," and all that. Perhaps the reason I so often resist being pushed into managerial roles is because I am incapable of deriving any sense of accomplishment – instead I pick apart what I've done and find the mistakes. I'm happiest as a worker drone, obviously, where I can feel a sense of accomplishment in surviving the mismanagement of others.

I might go into a more detailed "post mortem" at some point. Or just move on and forget it. I will post some video of it, when it becomes available.

There were no major disasters or failures – just A LOT of things that could have been done better, and a lot of unnecessary stress around all the small mistakes and failures.

I hope the kids had fun. And I hope the parents weren't too annoyed.

Anyway, I was exhausted last night and have to work today.

What I'm listening to right now.

Zeromancer, "Fractured."

Lyrics.

Can't you see my hands are clean
I'm as holy as can be
I will never do you harm

I am fractured
It can't ever be the same
Can't you see my hands
Are clean
Can't you see
I'm as holy as can be

What kind of life is this?
What kind of life is this?

Can't you see my hands are clean
I'm as holy as can be
I will never do you harm again
I am fractured
It can never be the same

What kind of life is this?
What kind of life is this?

I warned you a thousand times
It's like crying to the clouds

Why are you asking the questions
You already know the answer to?
Can't you see
My hands are clean

What kind of life is this?
What kind of life is this?

What kind of life is this?
What kind of life is this?
A good life

What kind of life is this?
What kind of life is this?
A good life

What kind of life is this?
What kind of life is this?

A good life
Is a quiet life
A good life
Is a quiet life

[daily log: walking, 6 km]

Caveat: Wah Wah Wah… the power’s going out!

Background Noise / Banalities & Journaling / 한국말을 배움 (Failing to Learn Korean)

I had a bit of a happy minor milestone with Korean this morning. 

My building occasionally makes announcements over the intercom system. A few of these, in the past, I have learned to identify, mostly on the basis of keywords combined with the timing (each month's electricity bill delivery, for example, comes on a certain weekday near the end of the month).

Mostly, however, I feel about these intercom announcements the way the peanuts kids feel about their teacher's talking. The sound quality is poor, and my command of Korean is lousy at best.

It's just so much incomprehensible input.

This morning, however, there was an announcement. It included the word for electricity, and it listed a specific time, and I was able to decipher it enough to realize: a) the power was going out, and b) I knew the exact times. I was thus able to actually plan my morning around this knowledge. 

Therefore, this represents the first time an intercom announcement influenced my behavior directly in a way closely connected to its intended meaning.

That's what language is for. So … I felt happy because of that.

I'm off to a very stressful week of work. Annual talent show, this Friday. Blog posts may be sparse… 

 [daily log: walking, 6 km]

Caveat: Not Memorial Day, But the Buddha’s Getting Older

Background Noise / Banalities & Journaling / Español Aleatorio (Random Spanish)

Korea doesn't have Memorial day on the last Monday in May. So today isn't Memorial Day, like it is in the US.

But I get the day off anyway, because just coincidentally, the Buddha's birthday falls on this day, this year (it's calculated on the Lunar Calendar, so it moves around each year, like Easter or Chuseok). It's quite late this year.

I am so exhausted from work, I have little motivation to do something "interesting" with my extra day off.

I'm treating it as a bonus Sunday, meaning I'm trying not to pressure myself to do anything specific, and trying not to feel guilty about that. This is harder to do than to describe.

I have been messing with my imaginary maps, a lot – including a lot of sketching and story-drafting. Maybe I'll post an update on that at some point.

Meanwhile, here is something to listen to. What I'm listening to right now.

Moderatto's cover of "Volver, Volver."

Letra.

Este amor apasionado, anda todo alborotado ,
por volver.
voy camino a la locura y aunque todo me tortura,
se querer.

Nos dejamos hace tiempo pero me llego el momento de perder
tu tenias mucha razon, le hago caso al corazon y me muero
por volver

'Y volver volver, volver a tus brazos otra vez,
llegare hasta donde estes
yo se perder,yo se perder, quiero volver, volver,
volver.'

Nos dejamos hace tiempo pero me llego el momento
de perder
tu tenias mucha razon, le hago caso al corazon
y me muero por volver.

'Y volver volver, volver a tus brazos otra vez,
llegare hasta donde estes
yo se perder, yo se perder, quiero volver, volver,
volver.

[daily log: walking, 1 km]

Caveat: disparo en la sien y metralla en la risa

Background Noise / Banalities & Journaling / Not My Poetry / The Wonders of Work

The last two days have been truly exhausting and chaotic.

Yesterday, especially – we had rehearsal for our talent show next week. We also had a partial power failure at hagwon. I got to teach classes in the dark. It was like a weird dream.

What I'm listening to right now.

Silvio Rodríguez, "La Gaviota."

Letra.

Corrían los días de fines de guerra,
y había un soldado regresando intacto,
intacto del frío mortal de la tierra,
intacto de flores de horror en su cuarto.

Elevó los ojos, respiró profundo,
la palabra cielo se hizo en su boca,
y como si no hubiera más en el mundo,
por el firmamento pasó una gaviota.

Gaviota, gaviota, vals del equilibrio,
cadencia increíble, llamada en el hombro.
Gaviota, gaviota, blancura del lirio,
aire y bailarina, gaviota de asombro.

A dónde te marchas, canción de la brisa,
tan rápida, tan detenida,
disparo en la sien y metralla en la risa,
gaviota que pasa y se lleva la vida?

Corrían los días de fines de guerra,
pasó una gaviota volando, volando
lento, como un tiempo de amor que se cierra,
imperio de ala, de cielo y de cuándo.

Gaviota, gaviota, vals del equilibrio,
cadencia increíble, llamada en el hombro,
gaviota, gaviota, blancura del lirio,
aire y bailarina, gaviota de asombro.

Corrían los días de fines de guerra,
pasó una gaviota volando
y el que anduvo intacto rodó por la tierra,
huérfano, desnudo, herido, sangrando.

[daily log: walking, 6 km]

Caveat: Morbid Piles of Links

Background Noise / Banalities & Journaling / Cancer / Found Online

I have a morbid habit, which I sometimes indulge. I read the blogs of people with cancer.

These abound on the internet. More often than not, I come across pointers to such blogs in other places, in other contexts, but I will take a moment to add the pointer to a little pile (file) of links I have of "cancer blogs." Then, sometimes, when the mood strikes or I'm feeling mortal or hypochondriac or unlucky, I will read one. 

Many people seem to take the decision to start blog, upon learning they have cancer. 

I was different only in that I long ago started my blog as a coping mechanism to deal with different, unrelated issues (stepping away from my hermetic life and trying to document my efforts to jump-start my career). 

Perhaps I'm a bit different too, in that, since I was blogging before the cancer, now that I'm basically past it successfully (fingers crossed and knock on wood and all that), I continue blogging reliably – many "cancer" blogs "die" not just when their authors die, but also when their authors fail to die, but  instead just get on with life. 

Recently a blog I've visited a few times (a linguist and thus someone whose non-cancer writings also had at least some appeal for me) announced the death of its author after a fairly short (6 month) battle. 

There, now I'm not feeling unlucky anymore.

What I'm listening to right now.

Andy Williams, "House of Bamboo."

Lyrics.

Number fifty-four,
The house with the bamboo door,
Bamboo roof and bamboo walls,
They've even got a bamboo floor!

You must get to know – Soho Joe,
He runs an Expresso,
Called the House of Bamboo.

It's a made of sticks.
Sticks and bricks,
But you can get your kicks
In the house of bamboo.

In this casino, you can drink a chino,
And it's gotcha swingin' to the cha cha
Dance the bolero in a sombrero.
Shake – like a snake!

You wanna drop in when the cats are hoppin'.
Let your two feet move a to the big beat;
Pick yourself a kitten and listen to a platter
That rocks – the juke-box!

I'm a telling you, when you're blue,
Well there's a lot to do
In the House Of Bamboo.

You must get to know – Soho Joe,
He runs an Expresso,
Called the House of Bamboo.

In this casino, you can drink a chino,
Let your two feet move-a to the big beat;
Pick yourself a kitten and listen to a platter
That rocks

I'm a telling you, when you're blue,
Well there's a lot to do
In the House Of Bamboo.

Number fifty-four,
The house with the bamboo door,
Bamboo roof and bamboo walls,
They've even got a bamboo floor!

In the House Of Bamboo.

[daily log: walking, 6 km]

Caveat: the potatoes are burning

Background Noise / Not My Poetry

46. Harold Arnett

I leaned against the mantel, sick, sick,
Thinking of my failure, looking into the abysm,
Weak from the noon-day heat.
A church bell sounded mournfully far away,
I heard the cry of a baby,
And the coughing of John Yarnell,
Bed-ridden, feverish, feverish, dying,
Then the violent voice of my wife:
"Watch out, the potatoes are burning!"
I smelled them … then there was irresistible disgust.
I pulled the trigger … blackness … light…
Unspeakable regret … fumbling for the world again.
Too late! Thus I came here,
With lungs for breathing … one cannot breathe here with lungs,
Though one must breathe…. Of what use is it
To rid one’s self of the world,
When no soul may ever escape the eternal destiny of life?
– Edgar Lee Masters (American poet, 1868–1950)

The poem is from The Spoon River Anthology, published 100 years ago this year. I came to these poems late (meaning I was never exposed to them, as far as I can remember, during my literary education. Nevertheless, I can understand why they are important landmarks in American literature.

What I'm listening to right now.

Antonín Dvořák, "Requiem."

[daily log: walking, here and there]

Caveat: Barking? No, the other end

Background Noise / Found Online / Politics, Economics & Current Affairs / Science & SciFi

Ha. The "surveillance state" is going to the dogs, now. 

The well-named municipality of Barking and Dagenham, in the UK, is going to be genetically testing dog poo and requiring pet owners to register their pets' DNA – this will allow unambiguous attribution of guilt to owners who don't clean up after their pets.

How far we've come. This seems like one of those fake news snippets from a 1960s-era Heinlein novel.

Really, though… could George Orwell have foreseen this?

What I'm listening to right now.

Informatik, "My True Love." The lyrics are stunningly banal – not what I would hope for from goth-rock. But whatever… I guess I like the sound of it. 

Lyrics.

My true love – the only one for me
And the other there will never be
My true love – always there for me
When I'm feeling so lonely
My true love calls my name
That's when I go running
My true love will never let me down
Please don't let me down

The more that I see you
The more that I need you
This feeling just won't go away

I can't live without you
I won't ever doubt you
I'm begging you – don't go away

My true love whispers to me
Tells me all the things that I want to hear
My true love takes over me
Will never let me go, never set me free
My true love is my everything
Everything I am, all I'll ever be
My true love will never let me down
Please don't let me down

The more that I see you
The more that I need you
This feeling just won't go away
(Won't go, won't go away)

I can't live without you
I won't ever doubt you
I'm begging you – don't go away
(Don't go, don't go away)

You have left your mark on me
I will never be the same
Even if I walk away

Your heavenly embrace
Not so easy to erase
Will I ever have the strength
To say goodbye to you

The more that I see you
The more that I need you
This feeling just won't go away

I can't live without you
I won't ever doubt you
I'm begging you – don't go away

[daily log: walking, ]

 

Caveat: The deep fragrance and impressive taste of coffee beans have just roasted

Background Noise / Banalities & Journaling

2015-04-26 11.56.20I was laughing at the slogan on a lovely cardboard coffee tote from a local coffee shop (picture at right).

The deep fragrance and impressive taste of coffee beans have just roasted.

A coworker asked what was wrong. "Is it bad grammar?" she asked.

"No. It's … grammatical," I explained. "But…  I don't think it means what they think it means."

If a fragrance and a taste get together one night, and roast, what is the result?

What I'm listening to right now. A whole new genre: "country hiphop."

Yelawolf, "Til It's Gone."

Lyrics.

[Verse 1:]
I'm not the table you can come and lay your cup down on, now
I'm not the shoulder for a bag. The one that carried a heavy load
I'm not the road that you take when you looking for a short cut, uh
I ain't the stepping stone to be stepping on
I ain't nobodies crutch
I ain't the money man, with your money, man
You ain't looking at me
I'm not the cheap one, looking at me son
You ain't looking at free
I ain't the dish rag to come clean up all the shit that you dish out
Ain't got no check for em'
If you checking in, mothafucka, check this out

[Hook:]
Ain't much I can do but I do what I can
But I'm not a fool there's no need to pretend
And just because you got yourself in some shit
It doesn't mean I have to come deal with it
You handle your own when you become a man
And become a man when you handle your own
Ain't much I can do, but I do what I can
But what can I do if I do till it's gone? Oh oh
Till it's gone. Oh oh [x3]
What can I do if I do till it's gone?

[Verse 2:]
I'm not the the trash can. Not the last man at the finish line, now
I'm not the new kid on the block that you can just follow and push around
I'm not the fucking needle in the hay stack that you finally found
This ain't no free rent. Come and pitch a tent
You ain't tying me down
I'm not a bus ride you can hop inside and just roll away clean
Like the wheel on the wagon you wanna break
Cause I hold up the weight for the team
I'm not the gold watch and the new truck that your scheming to check out
Unless your looking to check out (powpowpow)
What a mess, now (come on)

[Hook:]
Ain't much I can do but I do what I can
But I'm not a fool there's no need to pretend
And just because you got yourself in some shit
It doesn't mean I have to come deal with it
You handle your own when you become a man
And become a man when you handle your own
Ain't much I can do, but I do what I can
But what can I do if I do till it's gone? Oh oh
Till it's gone. Oh oh [x3]
What can I do if I do till it's gone?

[Verse 3:]
I jump to the sky for my people
I walk through the fire. I give love when it's equal
Don't tell me not to complain about my money and fame
When you come around me telling me I've changed
Damn, right I've fucking changed
When there's fucking change in my pocket hit the bucket
It was a rocking all a sudden
I went from shopping without nothing
To going shopping for my cousins
Now that the cops know that I'm buzzing,
They wanna drop me in the oven
Pull me over just to say "I'm a fan"
Hip hop; gotta love it, but fuck it

[Hook:]
Ain't much I can do but I do what I can
But I'm not a fool there's no need to pretend
And just because you got yourself in some shit
It doesn't mean I have to come deal with it
You handle your own when you become a man
And become a man when you handle your own
Ain't much I can do, but I do what I can
But what can I do if I do till it's gone? Oh oh
Till it's gone. Oh oh [x3]
What can I do if I do till it's gone?

[daily log: walking, 1 km]

Caveat: Soup for Nostalgia’s Sake on the Field of Justice

Background Noise / Banalities & Journaling / Food & Drink

I don't get very ambitious with my cooking, much, these days.

Mostly, every time I buy some food item or attempt to cook some food item, out of craving or whatever, I am inevitably disappointed. Eating just isn't fun – not even the the easiest-to-eat foods, like omelettes or noodle soup (국수) or rice porridge (죽) – at best, they are utilitarian and serve the purpose of providing me with sustenance with minimal discomfort. 

So mostly I just don't bother. I have my instant soup mixes and my pasta and my eggs, and I prepare them always the same way and with the least effort required, because putting in extra effort or attention to detail offers no noticeable improvement in quality-of-experience. 

Last night I was feeling nostalgic. I had run into a former student, Eunjin, on the street the other day, and she shocked me by running up to me and hugging me (note that Koreans are not, normally, notable for effusiveness in this manner). She is in high school now but she had always been a remarkably motivated student in the years I taught her. She told me she hated English now because of how it is taught in high school, but she missed my classes. That was flattering, I guess.

Then my former coworker Ken stopped by work last night. He's left the English teaching biz and is working for Samsung in some businessman-type functionality. This is probably good for his bank account and his ambition, but may be contrary to his core inclinations. Anyway, although I don't think of him that often, in seeing him I realized I missed the constant dialogue and banter I'd had with him during our years working together.

Anyway, I was feeling nostalgic, and when I get nostalgic, I sometimes find myself cooking, for no good reason whatsoever. 

I made pea soup. It wasn't exceptionally fun to eat, but the act of making it was enjoyable, if that makes any sense. 

2015-04-23 09.57.53

What I'm listening to right now.

Philip Glass, "Satyagraha (Act 1, Tolstoy)."

[daily log: walking, 6 km]

Caveat: Out of kindness, I suppose…

Background Noise / Banalities & Journaling / Not My Poetry

Drizzly Sunday, and a typical lack of motivation to do even the barest minimum of things I probably should do. 

What I'm listening to right now.

Willie Nelson and Merle Haggard, "Pancho and Lefty."

Lyrics were by Townes Van Zandt.

Livin' on the road my friend
Is gonna keep you free and clean
And now you wear your skin like iron
And your breath is hard as kerosene

You weren't your mama's only boy
Her favorite one it seems
She began to cry when you said
Good-bye, sank to your dreams

Pancho was a bandit boy
His horse was fast as polished steel
He wore his gun outside his pants
For all the honest world to feel

Pancho met his match, you know
On the deserts down in Mexico
Nobody heard his dyin' word
Oh but that's the way it goes

<chorus:>
All the Federales say
We could have had him any day
They only let him go so long
Out of kindness I suppose

Lefty he can't sing the blues
All night long like he used to
The dust that Pancho bit down South
Ended up in Lefty's mouth

The day they lay poor Pancho low
Lefty split for Ohio
Where he got the bread to go
There ain't nobody knows

<chorus:>
All the Federales say
We could have had him any day
They only let him go so long
Out of kindness I suppose

The poets tell how Poncho fell
And Lefty's livin' in a cheap hotel
The desert's quiet, Cleveland's cold
And so the story ends we're told

Pancho needs your prayers, it's true
Save a few for Lefty too
He only did what he had to do
And now he's growin' old

<chorus:>
All the Federales say
We could have had him any day
They only let him go so long
Out of kindness I suppose

A few gray Federales say
Could have had him any day
We only let him go so long
Out of kindness I suppose

[daily log: walking, 1 km]

Caveat: Here Read This

Background Noise / Banalities & Journaling / Teaching & Methodology / The Wonders of Work / 한국말을 배움 (Failing to Learn Korean)

My boss Curt handed me this document and said "here, you can read this." 

Answertongthing-page-001

Answertongthing-page-002

I think it will take me a long time with a dictionary. It's an excerpt from a teaching innovation periodical… something about some great new teaching methodology or something.

What I'm listening to right now.

Linkin Park, "In The End."

Lyrics. 

It starts with
One thing I don't know why
It doesn't even matter how hard you try
Keep that in mind, I designed this rhyme
To explain in due time
All I know
Time is a valuable thing
Watch it fly by as the pendulum swings
Watch it count down to the end of the day
The clock ticks life away
It's so unreal
Didn't look out below
Watch the time go right out the window
Trying to hold on but didn't even know
I wasted it all just to watch you go

I kept everything inside and even though I tried, it all fell apart
What it meant to me will eventually be a memory of a time when…

I tried so hard
And got so far
But in the end
It doesn't even matter
I had to fall
To lose it all
But in the end
It doesn't even matter

One thing, I don't know why
It doesn't even matter how hard you try
Keep that in mind, I designed this rhyme
To remind myself how
I tried so hard
In spite of the way you were mocking me
Acting like I was part of your property
Remembering all the times you fought with me
I'm surprised it got so (far)
Things aren't the way they were before
You wouldn't even recognize me anymore
Not that you knew me back then
But it all comes back to me
In the end

You kept everything inside and even though I tried, it all fell apart
What it meant to me will eventually be a memory of a time when…

I tried so hard
And got so far
But in the end
It doesn't even matter
I had to fall
To lose it all
But in the end
It doesn't even matter

I've put my trust in you
Pushed as far as I can go
For all this
There's only one thing you should know
I've put my trust in you
Pushed as far as I can go
For all this
There's only one thing you should know

I tried so hard
And got so far
But in the end
It doesn't even matter
I had to fall
To lose it all
But in the end
It doesn't even matter

[daily log: walking, 1km]

Caveat: that man-made mountain

Background Noise / Not My Poetry

What I'm listening to right now.

Sims, "Future Shock."

Lyrics.

I was born in 82
about the time of the Cold War flew
born when the world was small
before we connected the zoo
look at the way we grew
dropped the borders but we kept the walls
the things we made to pull us close push us all
we hear the ring but screen the calls
so close we could almost touch
but so far we don't speak on the bus
so close I can almost see your breath
but so far I can't hear your words
I don't go a day without a button pressed
the years go by in a blur
it's the time of plenty, inbox full
so why do I feel so goddamn empty?
but look at how connected we are
the whole globe at your fingertips
speed the pace it's an instant fix
Space Age but I feel boxed in
and it's wide open
and I'm dying to know
why I feel disconnected
am I dreaming demons, alienated
or do I just get what I expected?
they say it's greed that keeps people turning
feeds the lonely and the beasts of burden
East of Eden but at least we're earning
the ice is melting and the trees are burning
reporters all say it's all but lost
and all we can do is watch
so I walk with my shoulders dropped
watch these blocks stack up with stores
is this what we're working for?
filling that hole with goods, what's good?
but the chokehold ain't local no more
it's global and closing its doors
it ain't about right or wrong
what side you're on
but the things we traded
how many sights for many sights
how is your life?
I was born in 82 but I live in 2000 and now
all the things I thought I knew
turns out they were never around
and all the people I met today
well, they all the same feeling that emptiness
fill it up with Fendi till the trendiness fades
then throw that thing away
I want the one with the new features
until the next one out then
bury it a little deeper
add on to that man-made mountain
you could have it all, the campaign touting
the cars and the champagne fountain
but that pool's only deep enough to sink
but these fools don't even stop to think
they just want that bubbly
now they spilling on you
ain't that lovely?
what a mess since they jumped in
now they scream save me, save me to the public
but we barely know the subject
we're all out doing for us
in so far, so far in fact
so near so packed we don't speak on the bus
loss of love, loss of mind
loss of love, loss of mind
running out of time
loss of love, loss of mind
loss of love, loss of mind
damn near out of time

[daily log: walking, 1 km]

Caveat: tan hermosa que aprendí a cantar

Background Noise / Banalities & Journaling / Not My Poetry 
Pasar el horizonte envejecido
Y mirar en el fondo de los sueños
La estrella que palpita
Eras tan hermosa
que no pudiste hablar
Yo me alejé
pero llevo en la mano
Aquel cielo nativo
Con un sol gastado
Esta tarde
en un café
he bebido
Un licor tembloroso
Como un pescado rojo
Y otra vez en el vaso escondido
Ese sueño filial
Eras tan hermosa
que no pudiste hablar
En tu pecho agonizaba
Eran verdes tus ojos
pero yo me alejaba
Eras tan hermosa
que aprendí a cantar

– Vicente Huidobro, Ecuatorial (1918)

It was a lousy day – I had been feeling better, but my body is good at recognizing when I have a day off, and it immediately got sick again. Bleaugh.

What I'm listening to right now.

Joywave, "Somebody New."

Lyrics.

With my eyes on the prize
Not a thing to my name
With my head in the clouds
And my body don't waste

Don't wanna ever wake up
Don't wanna ever wake up, I don't
Don't wanna ever wake up
Next to somebody new
Don't wanna ever wake up
Don't wanna ever wake up, I don't
Don't wanna ever wake up
Next to somebody new

With my eyes to the south
And my brain up in space
Flip my nervous hips around
I'm a step out a sync

Don't wanna ever wake up
Don't wanna ever wake up, I don't
Don't wanna ever wake up
Next to somebody new
Don't wanna ever wake up
Don't wanna ever wake up, I don't
Don't wanna ever wake up
Next to somebody new

Don't wanna ever wake up
Don't wanna ever wake up, I don't
Don't wanna ever wake up
Next to somebody new
Don't wanna ever wake up
Don't wanna ever wake up, I don't
Don't wanna ever wake up
Next to somebody new
Don't wanna ever wake up
Don't wanna ever wake up, I don't
Next to somebody new

[daily log: walking, 1 km]

Caveat: Breakdancing to Sad Songs About Autumn

Background Noise / Banalities & Journaling / Kids / The Wonders of Work

Well, the song is "Autumn," which is kind of the wrong theme, for Spring. But I liked this song, and I thought the kids did pretty well. And now it's stuck in my head.

Little Chloe on the left was breakdancing through the whole song, too.

The Sirius Ban, "Autumn."

Lyrics.

The leaves are changing their colors, their colors
And the sky is coming much closer, much closer
It's clear and blue
Wonderful
Autumn is coming to you

(repeat)

[daily log: walking, 6 km]

Caveat: Didn´t Wanna Fight

Background Noise / Banalities & Journaling

I didn't wanna fight with my laziness. I just let it walk all over me. Yay.

What I'm listening to right now.

Alabama Shakes, "Don't Wanna Fight."

Lyrics.

My life, your life
Don't cross them lines
What you like, what I like
Why can't we both be right?
Attacking, defending
Until there's nothing left worth winning
Your pride and my pride
Don't waste my time

I don't wanna fight no more [x6]

Take from my hand
Put in your hands
The fruit of all my grief
Lying down ain't easy
When everyone is pleasing
I can't get no relief
Living ain't no fun
The constant dedication
Keeping the water and power on
There ain't nobody left
Why can't I catch my breath?
I'm gonna work myself to death

I don't wanna fight no more [x6]

No, no, no, no!

I don't wanna fight no more [x7]
I don't wanna fight, I don't wanna fight!
I don't wanna fight no more [x8]

[daily log: walking, \sum_{n=1}^\infty \frac{1}{10^n}.]

Caveat: no one can tell when she cries

Background Noise / Found Online

What I'm listening to right now.

They Might Be Giants, "Underwater Woman."

Lyrics.

underwater woman
underwater lady
no one on the shore will ever know what’s in her heart

fiercely alive, will to survive
able to thrive on her own
self contained, properly trained
hydroponically grown

underwater woman
breathing underwater
brushing her hair, eating a pear
no one can tell when she cries
away away away

she scans the ocean floor
with ultrasonic blips
nothing but rocks and sand
and the broken wrecks of ships

underwater woman
underwater lady
no one on the shore will ever know what’s in her heart

laughing uncontrollably, who is she talking to?
holding up a shell like it’s a telephone
frantically digging through a pile of old papers
intently staring at a photograph

underwater woman
breathing underwater
brushing her hair, eating a pear
no one can tell when she cries
away away away

[daily log: walking, 6km]

Caveat: 너무 많은 기침

Background Noise / Banalities & Journaling / Life is a Dream

Wow what a horrible flu this is that I have right now.
I woke up at around 4 am because I was coughing. I took some cough suppressant, drank some tea, and after a few hours, I went back to sleep again.
I had very strange dream-snippets.
In one memorable dream fragment, a student was following me around, poking me and invading my space and being generally annoying. I had this weird lucid-dreaming insight: I thought to myself, in the dream, “well, this is a dream, so it doesn’t matter what I do…” I spun around and punched the student. There, that took care of that. Actually, I don’t normally harbor impulses like that, but I think I know what it’s about.
I woke up with a kind of spasmodic turn and the sun was shining into my eyes.
I spent the day watching Korean documentaries and sneezing and dozing. I finished that Tolkien book I’ve been reading, but didn’t have the gumption to start something new.

Unrelated quote of the day:

“If I owned a dam and decided to donate it to charity, would I be giving a dam? I’m sure that might be a first because no one really gives a dam.” – the internet

What I’m listening to right now.

Junip, “Always.”
Lyrics.

Droning chords and distant bells
Humming over empty shells
Holding on tight onto a dead sky

Nomadic moves across a lawn
Inch by inch into the dawn
Holding on tight onto a dead sky

Turn a deaf ear no matter what they might say
Always
Turn a deaf ear pushing you further away
Always

Droning chords and distant bells
To what’s been over since the fall
Holding tight to what’s been felt
Holding on tight onto a dead sky

Turn a deaf ear no matter what they might say
Always
Turn a deaf ear pushing you further away
Always

[daily log: coughing, 6k]

Caveat: Transporting Guinea Pigs from Point A to Point B

Background Noise / Found Online

What I'm listening to right now.

Parry Gripp, "Guinea Pig Bridge at the Nagasaki Bio Park"

Lyrics.

Guinea Pig Bridge!
(Guinea pig, guinea pig , guinea guinea guinea pig)
Guinea Pig Bridge!
Transporting guinea pigs from point A to point B
Utilizing the latest guinea pig bridge technology
Conveniently and safely!
(Guinea pig, guinea pig , guinea guinea guinea pig)
Guinea Pig Bridge!
(Guinea pig, guinea pig , guinea guinea guinea pig)
Guinea Pig Bridge!

[daily log: walking, 6 km]

Caveat: Pumpkin Porridge on a Sunday

Background Noise / Banalities & Journaling / My Photos

picture

I've developed a bit of a tradition (I don't always follow it, but a couple times a month) of spending my Sundays doodling my imaginary maps and architecture schemes, listening to strange music, and buying and eating take-out pumpkin porridge (단호박죽). 

So that's what I did with my Sunday. 

What I'm listening to right now.

[UPDATE 20180330: Video embed changed due to link-rot. The new embedded video is a different remix of the same song, and not the one in my mp3 collection. It's similar enough, but the lyrics might not match…]

Absurd Minds, "Herzlos."

Lyrics.

Unwahr ist, was nicht meinem Wahren entspricht.
Unwahr nenn ich alles, was das Wahre verbirgt
Und unwirklich, begrenzt oder einengend ist,
was Täuschung und Wahn, was vergänglich ist.
Unwahr ist Begrenzung durch Zeit und Raum.
Unwahr – die Tränen in meinem Traum.
Was unwahr ist, das BIN ICH nicht.
Denn ICH BIN das Wahre, denn ICH BIN das Ich.

So bist du also wieder einmal hier. Und dennoch hälst du an deinem Unglauben fest.
Es ist der eine, starre, unveränderbare Glaube der Welt,
dass alle Dinge in ihr geboren werden, nur um wieder zu sterben.
Und doch ist dieses Leben ein Spiel,
aber du bist zu den Glauben gekommen, dass es die einzige Wirklichkeit ist.
Die einzige Wirklichkeit jedoch, die es gab und je geben wird ist das Leben.
Meißel nun in alle Grabsteine: Hier ruht niemand.

(… herzlos.)
Das verstehst du nicht, denn du bist mein Traum, der zu mir spricht.
(Du bist herzlos.)
Was willst du von mir? Denkst du immer noch ich bin außerhalb von dir?

Das freie Denken kann nicht durch irgendwelche Grenzen gebunden werden.
Die wahre Bewegung, die allen zugrunde liegt, ist die Bewegung des Denkens.
Und die Wahrheit selbst ist Bewegung und kann niemals zum Stillstand,
zum aufhören des Suchens führen.
Deshalb liegt der wahre und wirkliche Fortschritt des Denkens
nur im umfassendsten Streben nach Erkenntnis,
die überhaupt nicht die Möglichkeit des Stillstands
in irgendwelchen Formen der Erkenntnis anerkennt.
Meißel nun in alle Grabsteine: Hier ruht niemand.

(… herzlos.)

[daily log: walking, 1km ; falling down, 1 m]

Caveat: Coming Down

Background Noise / Banalities & Journaling / The Wonders of Work

This weekend, Karma is moving to a new location. I have to work through the weekend. Packing. Unpacking.

What I'm listening to, and suffering through, right now.

Willie Nelson, "Just a Little Old Fashioned Karma Coming Down."

Lyrics.

There's just a little old fashioned karma coming down
Just a little old fashioned justice going round
A little bit of sowing and a little bit of reaping
A little bit of laughing and a little bit of weeping
Just a little old fashioned karma coming down

Coming down, coming down
Just a little old fashioned karma coming down
It really ain't hard to understand
If you're gonna dance you gotta pay the band
It's just a little old fashioned karma coming down

There's just a little old fashioned karma coming down
Just a little old fashioned justice going round
A little bit of sowing and a little bit of reaping
A little bit of laughing and a little bit of weeping
Just a little old fashioned karma coming down

Coming down, coming down
Just a little old fashioned karma coming down
It really ain't hard to understand
If you're gonna dance you gotta pay the band
It's just a little old fashioned karma coming down
It's just a little old fashioned karma coming down

[daily log: walking, 5 km]

Caveat: Ya no recuerdas quien soy

Background Noise / Español Aleatorio (Random Spanish)

Lo que estoy escuchando en este momento.

Noséquien y Los Nosécuantos, "Pacha."

Letra.

(Lo que has hecho conmigo no tiene nombre…)

Ya no recuerdas quien soy
yo te hice el plan en la playa
tu te enfrentabas al sol
yo me acerqué por la espalda;

Pasado el susto inicial,
vencida tu desconfianza;
buscamos algo que hablar,
y cruzamos las miradas

Me fui con tu dirección
y tu número en la agenda
y en la mente una visión
mezcla de hembrita y pantera

Dejé que pasen los días
y a tu número marqué
y cuando por ti pregunté
me dijeron que ahí no vivías
(jajaja… ni siquiera te conocía!)

Tu no estás obligada a satisfacerme,
por esos no debes mentirme
si no te apetece verme

Trata de no ser falsa
busca ser sincera siempre,
piensa antes de recibir,
lo que puedas ofrecerme;

Lástima que con tu gracia
y con esa linda facha,
te quieras hacer la sapa
y actués como una pacha

Pacha, Pacharaca
Pacha, Pacharaca…

No sabes lo mal que estoy,
tú te has pasado de la raya
yo no me olvido hasta hoy
de lo que pasó en la playa;
te hize un par de poesías
No te veo de nuevo…
No te veo para que te ahogues
me dado cuenta al estar contigo
que eres una calienta vohues

Pacha, pacharaca…

[daily log: walking, 5 km]

Caveat: Find another planet, make the same mistakes

Background Noise / Banalities & Journaling

What I'm listening to right now.

Modest Mouse, "Lampshades on Fire." The lyrics made me think of one of my favorite books of all time, the children's classic [broken link! FIXME] The Wump World. Music by Modest Mouse always makes me remember driving across New Mexico with my brother in… hm, I forget what year that was. 2006?

Lyrics.

Mmm buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh-duh-dah
Duh, duh, duh, duh, duh, duh, duh-duh-dah

We’re all goin’, we’re all goin’

Well, the lampshade’s on fire when the lights go out
The room lit up and we ran about
Well, this is what I really call a party now
Packed up our cars, moved to the next town

Well, the lampshades’s on fire when the lights go out
This is what I really call a party now
Well, fear makes us really, really run around
This one’s done so where to now?

Our eyes light up, we have no shame at all
Well you all know what I’m talking’ about
Shaved off my eyebrows when I fall to the ground
So I can’t look surprised right now

Pack up again, head to the next place
Where we'll make the same mistakes
Burn it up, or just chop it down
Ah, this one's done so where to now?

Buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh-duh-dah
Duh, duh, duh, duh, duh, duh, duh-duh-dah

We're all goin’, we're all goin’

Well, the lampshade's on fire when the lights go out
This is what I really call a party now
Well, fear makes us really, really run around
Ah, this one's done so where to now?


Our eyes light up, we have no shame at all
Well, you all know what I'm talkin’ about
The room lights up, well, we're still dancing around
We're havin’ fun, havin’ some for now

Pack up again, head to the next place
Where we'll make the same mistakes
Open one up and let it fall to the ground
Pile out the door when it all runs out

Buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh-duh-dah
Duh, duh, duh, duh, duh, duh, duh-duh-dah

We're all goin’, we're all goin’

We have spines in our bones
We'll eat your food, we'll throw stones

Oh, this is how it's always gone
And this is how it's goin’ to go

Well, we're the human race
We're goin’ to party out of this place
And then move on

Tough love

We'll kill you off and then make a clone
Yeah, we got spines, yeah, we have bones
This is how it's always gone
And this is how it's goin’ to go

As our feelings are getting hurt
Ah, we want you to do the work
Our ass looks great inside these jeans
Well, we all just don’t wanna’ clean

Oh, this is how it's always been
And this is how it's goin’ to be
So, you just move on

The air’s on fire so we’re movin’ on
Better find another one ‘cause this one’s done
Waitin’ for the magic when the scientists glow
To push, push, push, push, pull us up

Spend some time to float in outer space
Find another planet, make the same mistakes
Our mind’s all shattered when we climb aboard
Hopin’ for the scientists to find another door

[daily log: walking, km]

Caveat: As your TV

Background Noise / Banalities & Journaling

Every Sunday is similar. I will start the day having some ambition to get some project done. I will fail in that ambition, because Sundays feel like "everything is optional."

Today, I opted to opt out. Suboptimal.

What I'm listening to right now. 

Zeromancer, "Philharmonic."

Lyrics.

Sit down and watch me
I want you to see me
As your TV, as your TV
As your TV, as your TV

Touched by your static
You see right, right through me
As your TV, as your TV
As your TV, as your TV

What you hide is what you are
What it takes to be a star, come on
You say there's beauty in a scar
Now what a stupid thing you are, sometimes

After you get what you want
You don't want it anymore
(Is that what you want?)
After you get what you want
You don't want it anymore
(Is that what you want?)

After you get what you want
You don't want it anymore
(Is that what you want?)
After you get what you want
You don't want it anymore

Slow down, zoom in
Rewind, do you get the picture?
Philharmonic
Philharmonic

As your TV
As your TV

What you hide is what you are
What it takes to be a star, come on
You say there's beauty in a scar
Now what a stupid thing you are, sometimes

Philharmonic
(After you get what you want)
(You don't want it anymore)
Philharmonic
(After you get what you want)
(You don't want it anymore)

Philharmonic
(After you get what you want)
(You don't want it anymore)
Philharmonic
(After you get what you want)
(You don't want it anymore)
Philharmonic, philharmonic

What you hide is what you are
What it takes to be a star, come on
You say there's beauty in a scar
Now what a stupid thing you are, sometimes

What you hide is what you are
What it takes to be a star, come on
You say there's beauty in a scar
Now what a stupid thing you are, sometimes
Philharmonic

[daily log: walking, 2 km]

Caveat: Must be somewhere, then

Background Noise / Banalities & Journaling

A thousand miles from nowhere… must be somewhere, then. How about the 4th largest city in the world?

What I'm listening to right now.

Dwight Yoakam, "A Thousand Miles from Nowhere."

Lyrics.

I'm a thousand miles from nowhere
Time don't matter to me
'Cause I'm a thousand miles from nowhere
And there's no place I want to be

I got heartaches in my pocket
I got echoes in my head
And all that I keep hearing
Are the cruel, cruel things that you said

I'm a thousand miles from nowhere
Time don't matter to me
'Cause I'm a thousand miles from nowhere
And there's no place I want to be

Oh, I
Oh, I
Oh, I

Oh, I
Oh, I
Oh, I

I've got bruises on my memory
I've got tear stains on my hands
And in the mirror there's a vision
Of what used to be a man

I'm a thousand miles from nowhere
Time don't matter to me
'Cause I'm a thousand miles from nowhere
And there's no place I want to be

I'm a thousand miles from nowhere
Time don't matter to me
'Cause I'm a thousand miles from nowhere
And there's no place I want to be

Oh, I

I'm a thousand miles from nowhere

I'm a thousand miles from nowhere

I'm a thousand
I'm a thousand
…

[daily log: walking, 5 km]

Caveat: Sou o louco por não conseguir deixar a louca que é você?

Background Noise / Language & Linguistics / 한국말을 배움 (Failing to Learn Korean)

내가 지금 듣고있어요.

매드클라운, "화." I found the lyrics, accompanied by a translation into Portuguese. Just in case you needed that.

가사

Trouble Trouble Our destiny
Nosso destino é um problema
누가 더 아파?
nuga deo apa?
Quem está sofrendo mais?
누가 더 사랑해?
nuga deo saran'hae?
Quem está amando mais?
내게 미친 널 보고 있으면,
naege michin neol bogo isseumyeon,
Quando vejo você louco por mim,
난 웃지, 이렇게 웃지
nan utji, ireoke utji
eu sorrio, sorrio assim.

Rap)
들어봐 uh
deureobwa uh
Ouça
바로 어제 3년약정한 핸드폰 정신차리니 박살 나있고
baro eoje sanyeonyajeongan haendeupon jeonshincharini bagsal na'itgo
Ontem mesmo fez 3 anos que comprei o celular, após voltar
aos meus sentidos, vejo que ele está em pedaços.
바닥엔 할부 안 끝난 모니터 눈앞에 넌 계속 악쓰고 있고 uh
badagen halbu an keunnan moniteo nunape neon gyesog asseugo itgo uh
No chão estão as prestações do monitor
e na minha frente está você gritando.

젠장 뭐 답도 없지. 내가 널 밀치면 니가 날 밀쳐
jenjang mwo dapdo eopji. naega neol milchimyeon, niga nal milchyeo
Droga, estou sem resposta. Se eu te empurro, você me empurra.
서로 씩씩거리면서 더럽게 질척이는데 나 완전 미쳐
seoro shishigeorimyeon deoreopge jilcheogineunde na wanjeon michyeo
Ambos com raiva e você vem até mim, isso me tira do sério.

헤어지고 싶은 눈친데 날 시키지 말고 니가 직접 말하시던가
he'eojigo shipeun ninchinde nal shikiji malgo niga jigjeop marashideonga
Vejo que você quer terminar, mas não faça você mesma isso.
어찌됐든 나쁜 쪽 되기 싫다 이건데 알아서 그럼 꺼지시던가
eojidoetteun nappeun jog doegi shilda ireonde araseo geureom keojishindeonga
Enfim, sei que você não quer ser uma pessoa ruim, então suma.

어 그래, 잘가, 잘 지내. 니가 어디 어떻게 잘사나 두고볼건데 나
o geurae, jalga, jal jinae. niga eodi eotteoke jalsana dugobolgeonde na
Ok, tchau, se cuida. Vou esperar pra ver se você vai ficar bem
널 너무 사랑해서, 딱 한마디만 할게 너랑 꼭 똑같은 사람 만나 쓰레기 새꺄
neol neomu saran'haeseo, tak hanmadiman halge neorang
kok tok gateun saram manna, seuregi saekya.
Como eu amo muito você, vou te dizer uma coisa… eu espero
que você encontre uma pessoa igualzinha a você.

Trouble Trouble Our destiny
Nosso destino é um problema
누가 더 아파?
nuga deo apa?
Quem está sofrendo mais?
누가 더 사랑해?
nuga deo saran'hae?
Quem está amando mais?
내게 미친 널 보고 있으면
naege michin neol bogo isseumyeon
Quando vejo você louco por mim,
난 웃지 이렇게 웃지
nan utji, iroke utji
eu sorrio, sorrio assim
라리라라라 라리라라라
larilalala larilala
내가 미친 건지? 니가 미친 건지?
naega michin geonji? niga michin geonji?
Eu sou o louco? Você é a louca?
미친 너를 못 떠난 내가 미친 거지?
michin neoreul mot tteonan naega michin geoji?
Sou o louco por não conseguir deixar a louca que é você?
라리라라라 라리라라라
larilalala larilala
날 놓지마, 날 갖지마
nal nojima, nal gatjima
Deixa-me. Você não me tem.

사랑했던 건 진심 넌 내 맘에 별
saran'haetteon geon jimshim neon nae mame byeol
Eu te amei de verdade, você era a estrela do meu coração.
근데 별은 별인데 서울에 별
geunde byeoreun byeorinde Seure byeol
Uma estrela, mas como uma estrela em Seul
밤만 되면 아주 그냥 보이질 않어.
bamman doemyeon aju geunyang boijil ana.
Sempre que a noite vem, eu fico sem te ver.
내 속타서 그냥 보이질 않어
Nae sogtaseo geunyang boijil ana.
Eu fico frustrado por não te ver.

반짝 별님 어딜 가셨나? 땅 속에 꺼졌나 했더니 진짜 땅 속이데
banjag byeolnim gashyeonna? tang soge keojyeonna? haetteoni jinja tang sogide
Estrela cintilante, para onde você foi? Afundou no solo?
Você está, realmente, no subsolo.
참 신명나보여 클럽에서 아주 그냥 흥에 겨워 번쩍번쩍 빛나데
cham shinmyeona boyeo keulleobeseo aju geunyang
heunge gyeowo beonjeog beonjeog binnade
Parece que está passando um tempo
da sua vida em clube, se divertindo.

니가 뭐 그리 잘났어 날 감정이 없는 사람 취급하고?
O que você pensa que é, me tratando como se eu não tivesse sentimento?
또 그게 당연하다는 듯 굴어 huh 넌 알긴 할까 나도 사람이란걸
Agindo como se isso fosse natural…você percebe isso? Eu sou humano também.
찌르면 아파 간지럽히면 웃어.
Se me belisca, dói. Se faz cócegas, eu sorrio.
화를 낼 줄도 알고 슬프면 울어
Eu sei ficar com raiva, e choro quando estou triste.
엮였어 진심 더럽게 엮였어. 답이 있을 리 있나 없지
Eu fui jogado de verdade. E pra isso não tem resposta.

Trouble Trouble Our destiny
Nosso destino é um problema
누가 더 아파?
Quem está sofrendo mais?
누가 더 사랑해?
Quem está amando mais?
내게 미친 널 보고 있으면
Quando vejo você louco por mim,
난 웃지 이렇게 웃지
eu fico sorrindo assim

넌 망가질수록, 더 내가 필요해.
Quanto mais você se arruína, mais você precisa de mim.
니 속을 헤고 또 헤고 또 해도 널 진짜 모르겠어 못해먹겠다고
Eu procuro entender o seu interior, mas não consigo.
넌 나의 곁에서 가장 행복해, 외로움보단 괴로움을 택해
Você é mais feliz ao meu lado, mas opta pela solidão e a amargura.

겪을 만큼 겪었어 난 더는 볼 일없어 너와 나 사이? 일없어
Já vivenciei o bastante e não tenho interesse de ver mais coisas.
Entre você e eu? Nunca mais.
마지막 그 말 후회할 텐데
Você vai se arrepender destas últimas palavras
야 됐고 볼장 다 봤고, 넌 그냥 머리꼭지부터 발끝까지 최악
Eu já vi tudo o que tinha de ver, você é a pior dos pés a cabeça.
별 같은 소리하고 앉았네 불꺼
Estrela, apague as luzes.
그만 난 자러 갈래 수고
Parei. Vou pra cama.

Hurt me Love me Our destiny
Me machuca, me ama.
Esse é o nosso destino.
마음껏 욕해 하지만 가지마
Pode me xingar do que quiser, mas não vá.
Hurt me Love me But don't you say goodbye
Me fere, me ama. Mas não sei dizer adeus.
이렇게 비틀대지만
Eu estou balançado

라리라라라 라리라라라
larilalala larilala
내 말끝엔 또 칼끝이
O final das minhas palavras é uma faca afiada
라리라라라 라리라라라
larilalala larilala
니 손끝엔 또 눈물이
Em suas mãos há lágrimas de novo.
내가 미친 건지? 니가 미친 건지?
Eu sou o louco? Você é a louca?
미친 너를 못 떠난 내가 미친 거지?
Sou o louco por não conseguir deixar a louca que é você?

[daily log: walking, 1 km]

Caveat: Warhol Dreaming – put a peephole in my brain

Background Noise / Banalities & Journaling / Life is a Dream

What does it mean, in the vast scheme of dream symbology, to dream about Andy Warhol? Twice, in one night? 

Really, they were more like dream-fragments. And Warhol was perhaps standing in more as a symbol than as a character – but that's how he'd have preferred to appear in a dream, I suspect.

In the first dream fragment, I was with my father. He was trying to explain to me that, unfortunately, he would not be able to repay to me the 9 cents he owed me, this month. I wasn't sure why he was even worried about it, but he was very intent on justifying, via an explanation of his financial situation, why it simply wasn't going to be possible to come up with the 9 cents. He opened his wallet, and pulled out this repeatedly folded, enormous sheet of paper, upon which he was maintaining a gigantic spreadsheet, in multiple colors of ball-point ink, showing all the different people he owed money. It was all quite pathetic, especially when I realized all the amounts were in cents. Then I noticed, in the far upper left corner (and thus an early, if not first, entry in his spreadsheet), the name and amount "Andy Warhol -15." 

"You owe Andy Warhol 15 cents?" I asked my father, starting to laugh. I was incredulous, and found it funny.

He shook his head gravely. "Noo. Fifteen dollars." He shrugged his shoulders in embarrassment.

"But… he's dead." I said. My dad looked at me in alarm.

That was the end of the first dream fragment.

In the second dream fragment, I was on a commuter bus, trying to get across the 김포대교 (Kimpo Bridge across the Han River – the one that you cross from Ilsan if you're going to Bucheon or Incheon or the airport). There was a horrible traffic jam. It turned out someone had noticed that Andy Warhol was in a car – it looked like a late-model Lincoln towncar, of a sort I've never seen in Korea – and insisted that it was a great place to do an interview of the reclusive (reclusive? – this is some kind of dream-construct) star. In the slowly-moving traffic, my bus finally pulled along side the car where Warhol was being interviewed. The person doing the interview was my student Jinwon (of recent mention). I was more amazed. Jinwon apparently worked for a large Korean media company, and had arrived by helicopter. The questions he was asking Warhol were incoherent. Warhol's answers were incoherent. I was skeptical whether it was really Warhol in the car.

That's the end of the second dream fragment.

What do they mean?

What I'm listening to right now.

David Bowie, "Andy Warhol." No, I did not listen to this last night, so therefore no, it is not an explanation for the dreams. I found it this morning, after waking up with Andy Warhol on my mind. Normally I try to avoid posting a song on my blog that I've posted before, as I have with this one, but it seemed too apropos to resist.

Lyrics.

Like to take a cement fix
Be a standing cinema
Dress my friends up
just for show
See them as they really are
Put a peephole in my brain
Two New Pence to have a go
I'd like to be a gallery
Put you all inside my show

[CHORUS]
Andy Warhol looks a scream
Hang him on my wall
Andy Warhol, Silver Screen
Can't tell them apart at all

Andy walking, Andy tired
Andy take a little snooze
Tie him up when he's fast asleep
Send him on a pleasant cruise
When he wakes up on the sea
Be sure to think of me and you
He'll think about paint
and he'll think about glue
What a jolly boring thing to do

[CHORUS]

Caveat: 이 꿈에서 다시는 깨고 싶지 않아

Background Noise / Banalities & Journaling / 한국말을 배움 (Failing to Learn Korean)

저는 너무 피곤 해서 지금 재미있는 것을 쓰지못해요.
내가 지금 듣고있어요.

유승준, “가위.”
가사.

Check it out now, come on now let me bust it out,
Oh no too slow flow yo kick it a little faster come on
Just a La little more more faster come on come on
I said faster faster uh cause I like it like that and um uh
Come on yo faster yo go faster
넌 내게 말했지 세상을 떠나버린 후
꿈에서라도 다시는 만나서는 안된다고
하지만 매일 밤 꿈속에서 너를 만났어
아무말없이 날보며 울고만 서 있는 너를…
그토록 원했었지 너의 모든 흔적이 없어지길
우리의 모든기억 하얀 너도 강물 위에 띄어 보냈지만
내 손을 잡아봐 어디든 함께 갈테니
너 없이 혼자선 그 어떤 의미조차 될 순 없어
뭐라고 말좀해 왜 자꾸 울고만 있어
한번만 안아줘 이 꿈속에서 깰 수 있도록
넌 하얀 병실에서 조차 남겨질 내 걱정만 하곤 했어
우리 못다한 사랑은 잠시 접어두자고
오히려 나를 위로했어 이제 아무런 약속도
가난한 선물조차 할 수 없는 나
유일하게 너와 함께 할 수 있는
이 꿈에서 다시는 깨고 싶지 않아

[daily log: walking, 5.5 km]

Caveat: 추억이라 부를게

Background Noise / 한국말을 배움 (Failing to Learn Korean)

내가 지금 듣고있어요.

태양, “눈코입.”

미안해 미안해 하지마
내가 초라해지잖아
빨간 예쁜 입술로
어서 나를 죽이고 가
나는 괜찮아
마지막으로 나를 바라봐줘
아무렇지 않은 듯 웃어줘
네가 보고 싶을 때
기억할 수 있게
나의 머릿속에 네 얼굴 그릴 수 있게
널 보낼 수 없는 나의 욕심이
집착이 되어 널 가뒀고
혹시 이런 나 땜에 힘들었니
아무 대답 없는 너
바보처럼 왜
너를 지우지 못해
넌 떠나버렸는데

너의 눈 코 입
날 만지던 네 손길
작은 손톱까지 다
여전히 널 느낄 수 있지만
꺼진 불꽃처럼
타들어가버린
우리 사랑 모두 다
너무 아프지만 이젠 널
추억이라 부를게

사랑해 사랑했지만
내가 부족했었나 봐
혹시 우연이라도
한순간만이라도 널
볼 수 있을까
하루하루가 불안해져
네 모든 게 갈수록 희미해져
사진 속에 너는 왜
해맑게 웃는데
우리에게 다가오는 이별을 모른 채

널 보낼 수 없는 나의 욕심이
집착이 되어 널 가뒀고
혹시 이런 나 땜에 힘들었니
아무 대답 없는 너
바보처럼 왜
너를 지우지 못해
넌 떠나버렸는데

너의 눈 코 입
날 만지던 네 손길
작은 손톱까지 다
여전히 널 느낄 수 있지만
꺼진 불꽃처럼
타들어가버린
우리 사랑 모두 다
너무 아프지만 이젠 널
추억이라 부를게

나만을 바라보던 너의 까만 눈
향기로운 숨을 담은 너의 코
사랑해 사랑해
내게 속삭이던 그 입술을 난…

너의 눈 코 입
날 만지던 네 손길
작은 손톱까지 다
여전히 널 느낄 수 있지만
꺼진 불꽃처럼
타들어가버린
우리 사랑 모두 다
너무 아프지만 이젠 널
추억이라 부를게

Unexpectedly, the lyrics site offered an English translation.

Don’t be sorry,
That makes me more pitiful
With your pretty red lips
please hurry, kill me and go
I’m all right
Look at me one last time
Smile like nothing’s wrong,
So when I miss you
I can remember
So I can draw your face in my mind
My selfishness that couldn’t let you go
Turned into an obsession that imprisoned you
Were you hurt because of me?
You sit silently
Why am I a fool,
Why can’t I forget you
You’re already gone

Your eyes, nose, lips
Your touch that used to touch me,
To the ends of your fingertips
I can still feel you
But like a burnt out flame,
Burnt and destroyed
All of our love
It hurts so much, but now
I’ll call you a memory

Love you, loved you
I must have not been enough
Maybe I could see you
Just once by coincidence
Everyday I grow restless,
Everything about you
Is becoming faint
You smile back in our pictures,
Unknowing of our
Approaching farewell

My selfishness that couldn’t let you go
Turned into an obsession that imprisoned you
Were you hurt because of me?
You sit silently
Why am I a fool,
Why can’t I forget you
You’re already gone

Your eyes, nose, lips
Your touch that used to touch me,
To the ends of your fingertips
I can still feel you
But like a burnt out flame,
Burnt and destroyed
All of our love
It hurts so much, but now
I’ll call you a memory

Your black eyes that only saw me
Your nose that held the sweetest breath
Your lips that whispered
‘I love you, I love you’… I…

Your eyes, nose, lips
Your touch that used to touch me,
To the ends of your fingertips
I can still feel you
But like a burnt out flame,
Burnt and destroyed
All of our love
It hurts so much, but now
I’ll call you a memory.

[daily log: walking, 5 km]

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