[korea]
arie: today i went to immigration and watched a melodrama on kimchi, a motorcyclist redefined the concept of a calling card, and reminded me that a deck of cards can kill when thrown correctly. my favorite korean conservative tapped his fingers to an american jive on the radio about caffeine. and swerved his coupe for an hour, inside the lines of the lane on our drive back. we pretended not to notice. I read my journals: some children want to be man or woman. she wants to work with chocolate and have a house that is an amusement park (a little michael jackson unintentionally) but she said, not her bedroom, that will be all in blue. and to end in a single line: “in conclusion I will get a job and help some poor people”.
arie: oracle of sacred pleasure is nice. it was a strange masturbating dream. I miss having him here. I will go to open mic. penang curry maybe is against my doshas but it’s lovely. once in a while the life you save could be your own. I miss cuddling. you can waste your life drawing lines or live your life crossing them. together I lover beyond my bones. I would really like to love someone only like to the fullest. gosh so in fear, but just imagine. I was not ready for you.
[it was at an afterparty]
glen: overextending yourself is not love. you also found the trash room. your place feels a little better each day. I think that you just really miss green chili like true green chili. and what is with the weird christmas deer? It’s too bad he broke your hand. I know you are so tired of these. though that was the honeymoon. the timing was really bad. you don’t trust guy at all. you do miss the birds though. her dog just died you were so close.
ari: that was after I had chickened out earlier and it was close to my hotel in kuta. I had nothing to lose. I didn’t know they recorded that. how musicians can become friends and know you from a single song. now just have patterned bruises on my back. the candle is helping and the incense reminds me of my mom. I need my rug. I think I also need to purchase some christmas lights. I don’t know what to say I walked home today. as for koh phayam. we fucked in that bay. also can’t wait to play. the gluten free pizza was very yummy and the door guy here is kind. I did like him so much then; he took that picture at an afterparty at our photographer friend’s flat on a stormy tuesday.
jillian mukavetz is a poet photographer musician & founder and editor of womens quarterly conversation. she makes cinepoems & has a collaborative project named period stain. she plays the fiddle. she has two chapbooks say kitty, kitty & In the process of being heard. jillian has lived abroad teaching english as a second language & literature to adults and little ones alike in south korea, germany, china & thailand for nine years.