(我的花)
(镜花水月)
Dear warm kind eyes,
The longing nostalgia, yet factually foreign yearning, both hugs and tears me at the same time; as reality is as lonely as uncertainty’s gravity.
It sucks me into an isolation, a pair of black holes whose ending follows only upon the epilogue of my death.
But how can or do I let go, when I still hope for its fruition?
But this hope, o isolated seawall, am I simply hearing the wistful echoes of my heart?
Fear and anger plague me — for the little girl whom wishes to stay.
As I whisper, my narrative echoes into a song, but one whose chorus can only be arranged upon meeting a threshold of narrative completion.
But though I try to comprehend, how can I arrange the peaks whilst the story still continues?
Will this story ever end? Or has it yet to begin?
(첫사랑)
Dear my beloved rock,
Thank you for teaching me how to love. Through you, I was able to learn about the particular facets of life that I find beautiful and appreciate about this world, and as a result, I came to better understand the consequent beauty and existence of me as well (given the beauty of my experience, emotions, and feelings towards you). Through you, I came to learn about how I love, what I love, and the simple fact that I can love; and through you, I had the courage to feel and experience more of me (my love). For that, I will be forever and eternally grateful, because along the long and arduous path to you, I came to meet and fall in love with me (myself).
I will forever remember and reminisce on you and the impact you have had on my life, because since the beginning of ‘you’ in me, you have since become a part of e in regards to who I was, who I am, and who I will continue to become (and am becoming) going forward as well. Thank you for existing, for being born, and for existing in my life as well (as you are).
(2026) 내 사랑하는 돌메이
The flower always thought of itself as being alone and unseen, blooming to and within its feelings of love without external witness, as it remained hidden behind the shadows of the rock and its dreams amongst the stars. Amidst its yearnings for a home that didn’t yet exist, the flower wandered endlessly in search of its unconditional dream, accompanied by only herself and a little girl — whose whispers flowed like a song, guiding her towards her dream of heartfelt rest.
As she ventured into her journey, overtime, the flower realized that instead of being hidden away, she was in fact being protected by the rock, as she would have been undoubtedly washed away had it not been for the warmful embrace and patience of the lonesome stone. Despite her initial assumptions concerning the source of her yearnings, sadness, and pain, the rock was in fact the catalyst of her dreams, as it provided her with the adequate space, time, and energy to allow for her initiation into her own love — in her own time, steadily unrushed. In retrospect, this process of gentle blooming allowed for the flower to garner new rigor, strength, and hope in - and for - life. The rock allowed the flower to understand the reciprocal (and unprecedented) nature of her love, as she learnt to receive happiness as both the recipient and sender of her love. After 7 long years of tumultuous reflection, this process was made only possible given the honest and vulnerable opening of her heart (to the world, but most importantly, to herself).