I have
an open journal entitled ‘The Hindu Times’ in my computer. I’ve deleted most of
the entries during my vibrant heydays uni life when I was a fucking
cheerleader, and I felt stupid for doing it though. Both the cheerleading and
deleting. When I was 7, my diary consisted of ballet class schedules, the tales of that one
immortal mosquito in my room named Cindy (by me) and more ballet moves
illustrations. When I was 18, my diary only had curses at governmental exams,
additional mathematics and teachers. I’m turning 21 next year, I have nothing left
but existential crisis and trying not to be awkward at work.
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| 2012 november, seoul, apgujeong stn. |
