綠

어렸을 때, 파도에 떠내려가는 비치볼을 쫓다가 밀물에 휩쓸린 적이 있다.

헤엄치는 속도보다 물의 유속이 더 빨라서 점점 멀어지는 해안가를 보며 당황했다.

얼떨결에 근처의 암석에 매달렸고 그제서야 상황이 위험하다는 것을 깨달았다. 이미 공은 보이지 않았다.

처음 겪는 상황에 살짝 동요했으나 크게 겁을 먹지는 않았다. 죽음이라는 개념이 생소했던 나이였는지.

구조원이었는지 지나가던 아저씨였는지 알 수 없던 누군가가 와서 데리고 돌아가 주었던 것까지 기억난다.

그 뒤는 잘 모르겠다. 부모님께 질책을 받았던가? 같이 왔던 친구가 걱정을 해 주었던가?

볼을 끝까지 쫓았으면 어떻게 됐을까? 익사가 아무렴 소사보다는 편한 죽음이지 않을까?

줄곧 잊고 있었던 쓸데없는 사건이 여태껏 나를 겁쟁이로 붙잡고 있는 하나의 트라우마일지도 모른다는 생각이 든다.

무의식은 무섭구나. 난 정말 구차하게 연명하고 있다.

사실 나는 유아기에 의사의 오진으로 필요 없는 심장 수술을 하고 죽을 고비를 넘긴 적이 있다고 한다.

아버지는 건강이나 병원에 관한 이야기만 나오면 그 일화를 꺼내며 의사는 믿을 족속이 못 된다는 욕을 하시곤 했다.

거울 앞에 서도 등 뒤가 비춰 보이진 않아서 수영장 같은 곳에서 때때로 타인을 통해 잊고 있던 흉터의 존재를 상기한다.

오랜만에 들른 패스트푸드점에서 한 때 신상품이었던 버거가 일반 메뉴에 있는 것을 보며 새삼스레 스스로가 낡은 인간이라는 것을 자각한다.

トロ顔を教えて 〜comment te dire ahegao〜

纏 ちゃん

Irina Sabetskaya

Karrigan Taylor

iKON BOBBY

판갤 죄 악

이나은 (고화질녀 aka 힛키코)

𝑳𝒚𝒘𝒊

andonuts

동서남북 사방팔방으로 광광 울부Jesusㅠㅠ

Gort na Saileán

Down by the salley gardens my love and I did meet;
She passed the salley gardens with little snow-white feet.
She bid me take love easy, as the leaves grow on the tree;
But I, being young and foolish, with her would not agree.
In a field by the river my love and I did stand,
And on my leaning shoulder she laid her snow-white hand.
She bid me take life easy, as the grass grows on the weirs;
But I was young and foolish, and now am full of tears.

ひとつ半

もうすっかり夜だった。

男がタクシーに乗り込むと、そこにはすでに、女が乗っていた。

男は怒って、タクシーの運転手に、どういうことだとせまった。

「あれ。たしかに空車だと、表示が出ていたではないか？」

運転手は、横目で男を見てから、女に、ここで連れを拾っていくからと。そして、あなたがそうだから、車を止めてください、と申し付けられたといった。

男はそこで、はじめて女の顔を見た。知らない顔だ。年は十七にも、二十五にも見えるが、若い女だった。

明日は休みだ。この可愛いきちがいの戯れに、付き合ってやってもいい。それに、若しかしたら本当に知っている女かも知れない。

すでに車は走り出していた。

男はまずきいた。

「お嬢さん、失礼ですが、どこぞでお会いしましたかな？」

女は硬い表情のまま、しばらく黙っていたが、やがて、小さな声で話し出した。

「お前さんが、島根にお仕事で来なすった時です。山間にある食堂で、お昼をお食べになられたのを、覚えておいででしょうか。その時は、おうどんをお食べになっておられました。わたくしは、そこの雇われ女です。」

女は、妙な言葉づかいであった。若いくせに、似合わない古臭い言葉をつかっており、話の内容以前に引っ掛かった。

と、そこで男は気がついた。タクシーの運転手は、カーラジオからずっと、落語を流して聞いていた。小さな音だったが、この若い女は、たしかにこのラジオからきこえる言葉を、真似して話していた。

それがわかると、なんだか男は無性におかしくなり、この若いお嬢さんの必死の狂言を、どう暴いてやろうかと、胸の中で笑った。

「たしかにぼくは、去年出張で島根に行きました。うどんを食べたのも覚えています。だけど、そこにあなたのような美しい女性がいたかな。若しいたら、覚えているとおもうのだが。」

そういうと、女はぽつりと、

「ひとつ半です。」

といった。

「ひとつ半？時間ですか？」

時間はまだ、零時前だった。

「いいえ。あなたの…」

といって、女ははたと口をつぐんだ。何かに気づいたように、目と口を開いている。そしてこちらを見ていった。

「気づいておられないです？」

ぼくはなんだか腹立たしくなって、ちょうど家の近くに着いたところだったので、タクシーを降りてしまった。

Dog Sees Ada

Adam? I'm Adam! Moody, me? Dam it (sic)! Are we all? I know Ada. I saw Ada.
Ah, a short symbol to no denial: Eyes omit naive dog-desserts. Evil right, old-name diets. A tree-bonnet foliate, relax: If Ada did pull order, read. Ada had a foe, fire-rose facade tool, too-hot yard Iraq: arid Elijah at a haj. I lead a reviled noose, Canadian!
It is coded, on a pistol by Rome, "Man is an ardor pelt, tactiler, sad." A tacit sin, a rude Roman enema. I ran; Agnus Dei, Dada lived on.
I, a gap, a zero monad, Ada's nose: "Rift on, evil royal pilots!" I pass a nasal acolyte. I pondered, now idle.
His flack: late no-no's, tits, a cow. Two-cow, to tenor of God! A sin is a sign, ignoble udder-cases! La femme fatale gnawed at a phone-post, also lost call, eh? She'll act solo, slats open. Oh, pat a dew-angel at a femme false. Sacred duel, bonging is a sin; is a dog? For one to two-cow two, cast it so none talk calfs!
I held, I wondered. No piety local as an ass. A pistol (I play, or live not) fires on sad Ada. "No more!" Zap! Again. O devil! Ada died, sung an aria. Men, enamored, uranistic at Ada's relit cattle prod, ran as in a memory blot.
Sip an ode, Doc; sit in. Aid an ace, soon deliver Ada! Elijah!
At a haj, I led Iraq (arid ray to hoot), looted a cafe sore, rife of Ada. Had Ada erred? Roll up. Did Ada fix ale, retail? Often. "No beer taste," I demand, "loth girl! I've stressed! Go, deviant!"
"I mosey!"
"Elaine, Do not lob my Stroh's!"
Aha! Ada was I; Ada won. Kill a ewe, racist.
I made my doom: "Madam, I'm ADA!"
Ada sees God.

Dead Poets Society

O Me! O Life!

Oh me! Oh life! of the questions of these recurring,
Of the endless trains of the faithless, of cities fill’d with the foolish,
Of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish than I, and who more faithless?)
Of eyes that vainly crave the light, of the objects mean, of the struggle ever renew’d,
Of the poor results of all, of the plodding and sordid crowds I see around me,
Of the empty and useless years of the rest, with the rest me intertwined,
The question, O me! so sad, recurring—What good amid these, O me, O life?

                                       Answer.
That you are here—that life exists and identity,
That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse.

O Captain! My Captain!

O Captain! My Captain! our fearful trip is done;
The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is won;
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring:
      But O heart! heart! heart!
            O the bleeding drops of red,
                  Where on the deck my Captain lies,
                        Fallen cold and dead.

O Captain! My Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills;
For you bouquets and ribbon'd wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding;
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;
      Here captain! dear father!
            This arm beneath your head;
                  It is some dream that on the deck,
                        You've fallen cold and dead.

My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still;
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will;
The ship is anchor'd safe and sound, its voyage closed and done;
From fearful trip, the victor ship, comes in with object won;
      Exult, O shores, and ring, O bells!
            But I, with mournful tread,
                  Walk the deck my captain lies,
                        Fallen cold and dead.