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Sang Young Park

Love in the Big City

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  • raniaje citiralaпре 4 месеца
    When I write—or when I’m going about my day—I sometimes feel as vague and uncertain as if I’m all alone wandering through a cloud of dust, but sometimes I feel a warmth, like my hands have touched something. I want to call that something love. I know all too well how this emotion called love, how the word itself, can easily crumble into nothing, but all I can do is tightly grip this tiny bit of warmth and embrace it with all my might. Just so I can live on as myself. Just so I can live this life as myself and myself alone.
  • raniaje citiralaпре 4 месеца
    Rain still falls during the late rainy season, as do tears even when it’s too late.
  • raniaje citiralaпре 4 месеца
    I gave her a tiny wrapped chocolate that I’d had in my pocket for who knows how long, and she smiled at me like someone who had never known sadness in her life.
  • raniaje citiralaпре 4 месеца
    I still sometimes think that if I just reach out, I could touch the bridge of his nose.
  • raniaje citiralaпре 4 месеца
    Just you and me being here together. That’s what I like.
  • raniaje citiralaпре 4 месеца
    Look, can’t someone sing a song on the street if they want to? It’s a free country . .
  • raniaje citiralaпре 4 месеца
    Things are beautiful when they fade out
  • raniaje citiralaпре 4 месеца
    It gave me joy that food I had made with my own hands would become part of his body.
  • raniaje citiralaпре 4 месеца
    He would wave until the bus turned a corner and I vanished completely from his sight. He was the first person who had ever gazed after me that way.
  • raniaje citiralaпре 4 месеца
    I just wanted to hold him, to fold every inch of my body and soul into his heat and heartbeat
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