H a e j u n g l e e . b l o g

I blame no one for this position, but it’s unrealistic to say that things are completely unaffected by external influences. 

Am I just looking for a wall to press my shoulder onto - a pillow to offset the weight of this big and heavy head?

‘Sucking your thumb and frowning at the things that make you unhappy is absolutely unacceptable, oh no no! It’s silly to be doing that, especially at your age. The whole of society do not approve of this childish behaviour!’

You should know better - know better, be better. Be better than you.

쓰담쓰담 해주세요

work in progress of scanned work in progress.. work?

It’s a scary place to be in, when you’re foolish enough to think you get the gist of it all. ‘Yeah, yeah. Been there, done that. I’ve lived enough to know that.’

More and more I think it’s better to take in things as if they’re new regardless of its dizzying repetitiveness. Thousand times over, but never falter in believing it new and exciting, always. 

Breathe in that stale air inside your little box of comfort and always assure yourself that it’s the freshest air you’ve ever inhaled.

Promise yourself over and over again, even when you’re certain that it will break.

Often trying is simply not enough. I say perspective, but talking useless words is infinitely easier than doing it soaked in meaningful silence. 

Sympathy for sufferers only grow bigger as you get older.

I try so hard to stay naive and young, but you just cannot unsee certain things as you go through life. The real challenge is staying you despite it all.

comfort is not what I look for in life, but sometimes the bed of lush green grass on the side of the road on a hot day is too tempting not to sit on just for a second. 

The thing is, once you allow yourself sit, you’ll then want to lay. Once you lay down, you slowly drift off to sleep. Not long after, when you awake, the weight of your eyelids will be too heavy and your joints would have stiffened. 

I’ve laid on that patch of grass before, and the journey back up to standing makes you second guess if that patch of grass was worth sitting on in the first place.

Aftermath, 2021

I’m feeling again. 

it all seems easy until you’re in the thick of it. 

All the unsolicited advice turned to shit. 

Crying about Us, 2021 (crop)

I think life’s seeming malleability might be just an illusion, keeping us from looking down the edge of sanity.

It’s rigid as can be and here I am trying to bend it with all that’s within me.

muted

For better or worse, I mute myself

I think I’m pretending, but I can’t be sure.

Do I accept what seems inevitable or fight through in hopes that change might take place? 

Is it comfort over progress or walking in circles?

Will there be light at the end or will I —

When was the last time you’ve examined something?