perhaps

... i am nocturnal because in my body the blood which flows knows that home is not here, it is in korea. and so day is night and night is day. it may sound outlandish, but i just can't escape the blood in my veins, the spirit of my ancestors which makes my nights strange. it does not just up and go. doesn't when i look in the mirror, or try to say 'rural', or eat a big mac at mcdonalds with my parents. certainly doesn't when i am called a chink walking home from the bar.

so of course i would be up now, at 3am, wide awake as if it were the middle of the day. no, i am supposed to be at the doctor for a 4pm appointment instead of being in columbus, oh twelve hours earlier writing in front of my computer with a chestache. my parents should have never left. should have realized how hard it is to adjust and no, not to the culture, to the time: i am always ahead, feel ahead, feel as if i was lead here against my will and my body is telling me that i am not in the right place. it is obviously why my mind will race at the wrong time of the day, and i cannot sleep, cannot dream of beautiful things. cannot meet her out at the east bank of the stream; cannot skip rocks into the moss-covered electric machine; cannot not speak and hear, nonetheless, everything.

a shame but it can happen often, when nocturnal; goodnight moons are said too soon. before you know it the sun is up and the sky is maroon, and birds are chirping, and cars are honking in traffic, and children wait at the bus stop with sesame street umbrellas and yellow duck rain boots. but even then, when said too soon, my body knows that back home the land where my spirit was born, it will always be a true goodnight moon.