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The Trip, pt 2.

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“Coffeeshop Baba!” After some minutes spent wracking my brain for the name of the coffeeshop that ‘The Trip, Part 1’ started in, it comes to me in a sudden flash. The first of anything is always exciting and I’m desperate for this to be as good as my first time for Mick, - someone I’ve grown up with since meeting him as an 11 year old. I can feel my blood thicken and quicken in anticipation of the excitement to come. We zig and zag through small alleyways trying to match our blue dot over the red destination pin on my phone. We achieve this fairly quickly but there’s no sign of Coffeeshop Baba. A quick tap on the coffeeshop name reveals an oversight by me - ‘permanently closed.’ It’s funny how quickly your mind can change given the right set up for justification. One minute, I thought it valuable that we go somewhere tried and true but now that we had no choice, I decided it shouldn’t matter because it’s about the company, right? This optimism took us to the border of the red ligh...
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SHARE ۯ FOOD

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This child was told 27 years to share food. He did good, read books, but never learned to split bread - spat back at what mum said. Never thought it was selfish 'cos, 'If I bought it and I ordered, then it should be as I wished.' Of course, there were times that I chose to be nice, remorse for the untouched vegetable sides. But inside my mind was a shallow road block. A dam full with still rules withers and rots. Distilled water needed to release the hold, in the form of cabin dwellers hosting NGOs -  made kindness mean money. Now I see my flaws. Tap water, a comb, a blunted shaver. The barber's cape - a poncho pullover. Vigilant flicks adding spritzes of flavour... only to follow with a 'see ya later...' The gap in the teeth is seen in the absurd. Later that night, I'll take flight in a metal bird and he'll  stay days contained, on uneven earth. Asylum sought but still caught where they were thought as not who but store bought h...
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Notes for 27-years-and-5-months-old Phil

... even if he won't really understand. Dear Phil, Remember: Samos is a beautiful Greek island. With beaches, mountains, history and all the lures of a typical holiday destination from which you might expect. Samos is an inhabited island. It has shops, hospitals, cafes, bars, clubs, ATMs. You're not going there to be marooned. Don't say "I'm hungry" flippantly. Or ever. Don't say "football should be fun and happy" when people start getting competitive. Especially if you're coming from having 'won' the lottery of being from a place with freedom, opportunities, safety. RE: The police. "Serve + Protect." Who? "You and your friends" is not the correct answer. 'All Star' by Smash Mouth is a great boogie / sing along. Leave it at that and don't add it to your karaoke play list. There's a second verse you have no idea about. Your patience will be tested. You will feel like a horrible per...
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Sonnet NoName - (March '17)

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Shall I compare you to a Samos day - data attained, analysed, authenticated the world over? You drift, dragging, anchored, seeking your weigh Numberless, stateless, in purgatory hover Lying to sleep, no light to be dimm'd Storm clouds above float free without borders Whilst this bed lifts to reveal the horizon Your eyes see no distance - only rock faces untrimm'd But your open heart and mind has not faded Despite the decisions circumstance has dictated They scoot over helm(et)-less, trampling their grit Whilst yours reinforces like steel bit by bit      So long as you can breathe and your eyes can see      So long lives this - a pledged devotee View over the hotspot, out into Samos town and beyond
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ACT / IONS

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There once was a boy who expressed through giving Gifts and materials to lift those he thought deserving Too timid to translate good feelings to tidings Mistaking ghost subtleties as giving great meanings 'Actions speak louder than words,' he thought Ignoring the knock on his autonomic door, a fact To think, alone, is inaction. Even with a new Mac. Thank goodness for the friend who brought to his conscience "Bro, have you ever thought about not being so precious?" 'Actions speak louder than words,' he thought But 'action' is the word that cues fake walk and talk Perhaps even that would be a step to the ball That begins to revolve and evolve to a revolt Only the first three letters to begin with On a plane, relocated 600kms south-westward Occasionally, the letters formed words that made sense Gradually, combining to make sentences dance In turn, making way for enriching new dialogue Finally, creating a visible scene Ghost pulses ...
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Étretat - the place and how I got there

Paris was a pretty full on time. I definitely needed another recovery period, especially considering I'll be heading back to work very soon. I had been thinking about where to go next for quite a while and the obvious choice was to head to Belgium, which is en route to Amsterdam where I fly out from. Something in me didn't feel excited about this idea. It wasn't Belgium, because I've wanted to go there for a long time, so I have no idea what it was. Just a feeling, I guess. On Saturday night in Paris, I met a French girl named Clémence. I was in bed about to go to bed on Sunday night when I thought I'd try my luck and ask her for a recommendation. The brief was somewhere quiet, small, with beautiful views, not so touristy, and French people who don't speak much English. She suggested Étretat, which I had never heard of before. I didn't look it up beforehand on purpose except for its location, and trusted her description. That's how I ended up coming he...
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Day 19: Roots

I was going to check out of my single room (too expensive). The hotel owner asked where I was from and I told him. Then came the question,  "OK cool. Where are you REALLY from?" I told him Korea and it turned out he needed a reference from a Korean person so someone he knew could get admitted into a Korean University. He showed me the e-mail, and if it's the case, this University needs to get their shit together because that's a bullshit rule. Maybe I should've helped him, but I felt I hadn't been helped much on my stay, so I told a fib and told him I didn't have a Korean passport and that I couldn't read/write Korean. I feel bad on hindsight. James and Locher were at the Victoria & Albert Museum so I met up with them. It's great when people are so consistent. Locher hasn't changed a bit. James took me around to Camden Markets, which was littered with cool little markets. But not just produce and little bitsy markets, they were like ops...
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