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family

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i believe palestine will be free with my whole heart. the dutch colonized indonesia for 300 years, indonesians, even those who practice indigenous religion, are still here. west papuans are fighting for their independence from indonesia and american settlers, and they are still here. the invasion and bombings of vietnam, laos, and cambodia lasted for 20 years, and i have met some of the most brilliant asian people descended from there. and that was the first televised war! palestine will be free! from the river to the sea. the indigenous/global south world has always survived, and i believe it will live and flourish in the future (in my lifetime) no matter what.

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"What about those big mistakes, are they also part of the picture?" — First Love: Hatsukoi Ep. 1 (2022) dir. Yuri Kanchiku

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૮꒰ ‧₊˚𓂋＋𓇼🎞️²◞ 

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cr: breaknews

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Maya Hawke by Gia Coppola for Zac Posen

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Here's What Our Parents Never Taught Us

by Shinji Moon

You will stay up on your rooftop until sunlight peels away the husk of the moon, chainsmoking cigarettes and reading Baudelaire, and you will learn that you only ever want to fall in love with someone who will stay up to watch the sun rise with you. You will fall in love with train rides, and sooner or later you will realize that nowhere seems like home anymore. A woman will kiss you and you’ll think her lips are two petals rubbing against your mouth. You will not tell anyone that you liked it. It’s okay. It is beautiful to love humans in a world where love is a metaphor for lust. You can leave if you want, with only your skin as a carry-on. All you need is a twenty in your pocket and a bus ticket. All you need is someone on the other end of the map, thinking about the supple curves of your body, to guide you to a home that stretches out for miles and miles on end. You will lie to everyone you love. They will love you anyways. One day you’ll wake up and realize that you are too big for your own skin. Molt. Don’t be afraid. Your body is a house where the shutters blow in and out against the windowpane. You are a hurricane-prone area. The glass will break through often. But it’s okay. I promise. Remember, a stranger once told you that the breeze here is something worth writing poems about.

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Klaudija Visockyte on flickr

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As I Was Moving Ahead Occasionally I Saw Brief Glimpses of Beauty, Jonas Mekas (2000)

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palette (2017)

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Sans Soleil (Chris Marker, 1983)

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우리는 삶의 대부분을 머리 속에서 산다. 거기가 머무르기 좋은 곳이 되도록 하라. You live most of your life inside your head. Make sure it’s a nice place to be.

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some incoherent thoughts on love, and hye-jin and du-sik

it’s there, isn’t it? or at least something like it, drifting beneath them like an undercurrent, a slipstream.

it’s how du-sik always notices when hye-jin enters or leaves a room. it’s how hye-jin knows he’s about to cry from a look. it’s how they sit at dinner, close, sleeves brushing, but not quite touching. it’s how hye-jin is half-turned to him in every scene, how du-sik is so aware of her anytime she’s near. it’s how she notices he’s hurt, how she notices he’s sick, how she turns to watch him walk away. it’s how he sees mi-seon at the set and then immediately looks around for hye-jin. oh, you’re going for drinks, for lunch? let me join you. never mind that i said i didn’t want to, that was before i knew you would be there.

it’s how their interactions must be casual, otherwise they have to give it weight, give it meaning. i’m going to call you a rhino when you bump into me, because otherwise i’ll have to think about how it felt to have you close. i’m going to bicker and laugh at you while our hands touch, otherwise i’ll have to look at you and i can’t do that. it’s the way the camera doesn’t linger every time they touch but only when it matters, only when they can no longer pretend that it doesn’t. your hands on my face; you leaning in to kiss me; you holding me while i cry, when i’m frightened.

it’s how they linger here, in this halfway place between love and indifference. when i nearly kiss you, i’m going to hit my head and call myself crazy. when i stare at you in the store, i’m going to shake my head and tell myself to get a grip. i’m going to call this anything other than what it is. this is not love; it’s just kindness or attention, and i don’t care that they all mean the same thing. just don’t make me call it love.

it’s how i can’t even fit it all in here, because otherwise i’d be talking about every second they look at each other. because isn’t that what love is? not something bright and blinding, but a constant, steady attention?

but mostly, i think it’s about how du-sik finishes the porridge when it’s hard to eat, how hye-jin finishes the tea when it’s hard to drink. i’m going to complain the entire time but i’m still going to do it, because you gave it to me. because it’s you.

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bathed in light

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Sue Zhao