... I took my brush and wrote: 美人薄命. And I don't even know why. Finally the time for my rest is approaching. The time when I just will be able to sleep a little more than 4 hours a day. I don't mind my days being hectic, but there's this strange feeling sometimes reaching for the throat. The happier I am, the harder the payback. That is why I'm trying too keep my balance. In everything. Life is not always bright and pink. No matter what TV says.
I just feel it's not right to bother everybody around with the fluctuating emotions. That is why keeping an even style is the best. Not much "Oh", not much "ehh".
It's not that easy though.For the last week I watched only few episodes of drama and two movies. Now, I'm going to plunge back where I belong. Freed from oppresive Keunsuk hegemony, I have lighter head, because I'm not concerned anymore with that little idiot.
But my heart is heavier than ever.
That is why I wrote 美人薄命. It haunts me ever since. I remember my first Kanji exam during my studies. We had one like this: write your favorite jukugo. So I wrote.
The teacher was like: WTF?? Why did you write this one? From millions of jukugo you chose this one?!
Who cares, anyway? It's all in the past. My studies, my friends, my fears before the exams. My high hopes. Everything is vague, as if I have never seen anything clearly.
I know, I said it to my friend once: we are alone. We may accompany some others on their way, but there's a glass wall between us. We are born alone and we die alone. We may pretend otherwise.
I guess I shouldn't come back from work around 9 pm along the cemetery.
I sit beside the fire and think
of all that I have seen,
of meadow-flowers and butterflies
in summers that have been;
Of yellow leaves and gossamer
in autumns that there were,
with morning mist and silver sun
and wind upon my hair.
I sit beside the fire and think
of how the world will be
when winter comes without a spring
that I shall ever see.
For still there are so many things
that I have never seen:
in every wood in every spring
there is a different green.
I sit beside the fire and think
of people long ago,
and people who will see a world
that I shall never know.
But all the while I sit and think
of times there were before,
I listen for returning feet
and voices at the door.
of all that I have seen,
of meadow-flowers and butterflies
in summers that have been;
Of yellow leaves and gossamer
in autumns that there were,
with morning mist and silver sun
and wind upon my hair.
I sit beside the fire and think
of how the world will be
when winter comes without a spring
that I shall ever see.
For still there are so many things
that I have never seen:
in every wood in every spring
there is a different green.
I sit beside the fire and think
of people long ago,
and people who will see a world
that I shall never know.
But all the while I sit and think
of times there were before,
I listen for returning feet
and voices at the door.
The Lord of the Rings
Bilbo's song, The Fellowship of the Ring Book 2, Chapter 'The Ring Goes South'.
