It is quite cold in Korea these days,
and I feel the coldness in my bones—
or maybe I feel the coldness in me.
I am sinking, somehow, faster than I can possibly swim,
and nothing and no one is anywhere near to
pull my head up above the waves.
That’s the thing about swimming though:
you have to be able to sink before you even consider jumping in.
The cold is a worry in so far as cold water is not conducive to
conducting a proper swimming session,
or, at the very least, the session won’t be lasting all that long
and is largely based on how much you
are capable of enduring.
The cold is always an endurance trial,
with day after day of icy arctic blasts attempting
to sway you into a more indoorsy type
of environment—away from the unreasonably
inhuman environment of the out-of-doors.
“Conduct thineself accordingly!” the brainmeat screams out.
“You know what you are getting yourself into!
Do not run yourself into the ground chasing down something
you have never been about to define yourself.”
So, on a fool’s journey we are going. Acceptance comes first.
Traveling through the moors of endless bracken
with a backpack full of nothing and nothing as
the goal.
No-mind. Is it the same as the unthinking?
Satirizing no mind might find us eating our
young, swiftyly, and laughing at ourselves
when faced with facts of indubitably imminent
failure.
Yes, perhaps that’s the way to go.
Forge on ahead.
Go where you’re not meant to go.
Persist in pain.
Do the things you weren’t meant to.
Endure it all.
Be whatever you want to do, man.
Such clearly dangerous thoughts streaming through the mind’s eye,
and yet it feels so delicious as it pours onto the page.
Is it real? Am I real? Who’s to say? And who’s to really care if
I am one or the other or all or none?
Cannot we for one second remind ourselves that there is nothing
and nobody to stop us.
We are we are the youth of the nation.
Stupid pop songs resurfacing suddenly.
That’s the danger of the cold, I guess.
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