Tag Archives: Prose

Desperation (#tbt)

Desperation… it conjures up images of a salty body prone in the sand, baking under a scorching, desert sun, dry-mouthed, so hot yet too dehydrated even to sweat; after hours walking, hours crawling, hours struggling to continue in search of … Continue reading

Posted in Journal, Meditation, Prose | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Crossings, #tbt

“What will you promise each other?” I was wrestling with these feelings, this question. I typed a text that I didn’t send, which read “I promise I won’t abandon you. I promise I need you.” I was a woman standing … Continue reading

Posted in Dream | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Embers

The log swells; turgidity pushed to its limits. Wood cracks and splits as boiling water expands and forces steaming vapor up and out. Rather than dampen the fire, moisture is overcome by heat and the frenzy only increases with the … Continue reading

Posted in Prose | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Striking Oil (#TBT)

Why write? To have a record, to avoid the pitfalls of memory? Yet I seldom ever look at what I write again. More than keeping track, the benefit of writing for me is in the process. Too often I become absorbed with … Continue reading

Posted in Journal | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Duramen

My mind raced. I knew I wouldn’t feel anything. Do I ever really feel anything? I move through my feelings so fast it can be hard to tell. I wonder whether it’s all for show. It seemed my thoughts had … Continue reading

Posted in Journal | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Sound Mind and Body

Kamsahamnida kwanjangnim Continue reading

Posted in Meditation, Prose | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Erosion

Sometimes I feel like a jagged rock in a raging river; like an obtuse protuberance that rapids thrash against; as if I am surrounded by tremendous violence that it is battering me. Slowly, the currents erode my incongruous edges and … Continue reading

Posted in Meditation, Prose | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment