Day 1

Thursday, February 27th, 2014

This is the moment in which the character crosses the threshold. This is that delicate point between Act I and Act II. This is the moment when the character leaves the ordinary world and ventures off into the unknown. This is the moment when the character makes decisions in order to attain what they most desire. This is the moment when the main character seizes to remain passive and begins to take control of their life, of their story.

A journey into the unknown.

This is where heroes become heroes; in the unknown.  This vast, elusive, enigmatic haze that stares at you like a big fat cat stares at you from the top of a fence as you walk by in the middle of the night. I suppose everyday is a journey into the unknown. 

My coteacher asked the kids if any of them had trouble reading. A kid in group one raised his hand.

"I have a short tongue. That is why it's hard for me to read."

I laughed.

I woke up late today.

Came to school and there was a note on the door. “Sorry! Forgot the key! I will go home to get it. Be back in an hour…” The rest of the note told me to wait in the library.

So, here I am. The librarian motioned for me to sit down at this short, round table in the middle of the room. I took my seat, set my things down, and glanced around. I was surrounded by so many interesting looking books that I don’t know how to read, but there was a book that called out to me.

The spine had this aura; a sort of off-white matte feel about it. It was nestled in between two books wih black covers. I grabbed the book. An eerie drawing of a kid looked back at me from the front cover. I opened it up. The artwork was soft, gentle, and full of atmosphere; I could taste the fog. I flipped through the first few pages.

Beautiful artwork.

Beautiful layout.

I tried to read the first sentence. I was barely able to make out the first word. I held it up, facing the librarian, “Very hard for me.” She laughed and got up, disappearing somewhere into the depths of her shelves. She emerged with a children’s book.

A children’s book about the Korean alphabet for Korean children learning how to read. There I was, twenty-five years old with a college degree and I was having trouble reading a children’s book.

She was helping me pronounce some basic words when my main coteacher walked in. She had me sign some paperwork, explained the plan for today regarding going to Seoul for my immigration forms, asked about my dinner, and then bounced. Before she left, I was able to ask her a question. I handed her the original book that caught my attention, the one with the drawing of the kid.

“What’s this book about?”

She looked it over and read it out loud in Korean. Then she translated it to, “How I became invisible.” Or, something like that. “The writer is from Canada.”

She left and there I was, wishing I could read this book so bad. 

¿Donde esta el momento donde uno deja de vivir y empieza a morir?

What is it about the U.S. 

that makes me want to leave so bad? 

What about back home 

is so suffocating? 

What about back home grows so heavy and thick 

that we barely feel as if we can do anything we want? 

What about back home 

has brought us to the brink of giving up and giving in? 

Of saying, "fuck it! maybe I can't do it. Maybe, I'm not capable."

"Maybe I'm not who I thought I was."

Eventually, we lose who we are 

and become someone who used to be. 

Now, they're just going along getting beat up by this shit life 

most of us have been beaten into. 

We're told, "No." 

We're told that our dreams are stupid. 

We're told that we're too lazy. 

We're told that, "It's not American enough." 

We're told, "It won't sell,"

and that "people don't care, so why should you?" 

We're told that they see potential in us, 

but we're never taught to believe in our own capabilities.

Then, we become disappointments. 

We slowly get to a point where we finally give up, 

and then we begin to fall. 

We begin to die. 

We stop believing in ourselves and eventually become strangers to ourselves. 

How can you love someone you don't know?

Then, indifference. 

Then, when it's too late to learn to love yourself 

and believe in yourself, 

you realize what happened 

and you begin to hate. 

Then, you're truly gone.

So, let me ask you something.

"¿Te la crees hoy, puto?"

First Day of School

An empty classroom,

a thousand greetings await;

start of a new year.