38th
I remember what it was like just being a girl.
The summers were hot and sticky, wet with humidity and thick like a sauna. Cheap ice cream dripped on cloth shoes that were worn down with holes that my mother just couldn't seem to patch up fast enough. And even though, busy as she was with factory life, somehow I was content.
That childhood ignorance, before you truly understand the world -- there's just something beautiful about it, as naive and puerile as it truly is.
Now they imprison and use children like guinea pigs in North Korea. Just a 38th parallel away.
They'll never have that sweet ignorant bliss that so many children deserve. That so many children grow up not having.
I know I can't save the world, or anyone else. I'm not trying to conquer the walls of the 38th Parallel. I'm not as blind or as stupid as to believe that I have that kind of power. I'm no Virgin Mother Mary.
I'm just a guitar-toting chick from Seoul.
But I think there's something beautiful about the sound of laughter from vocal chords that haven't yet completely matured. And I think there's something beautiful in a smile. No, not the kind that you force out, the kind that crinkles at the edges with pretention. But the kind that crinkles the corners of your eyes with sincerity; with truth.
There's something beautiful about that.
I'm not going to be as hasty to believe that I can conquer the 38th Parallel.
But I do believe that I can, at the very simplest, make someone smile.
The summers were hot and sticky, wet with humidity and thick like a sauna. Cheap ice cream dripped on cloth shoes that were worn down with holes that my mother just couldn't seem to patch up fast enough. And even though, busy as she was with factory life, somehow I was content.
That childhood ignorance, before you truly understand the world -- there's just something beautiful about it, as naive and puerile as it truly is.
Now they imprison and use children like guinea pigs in North Korea. Just a 38th parallel away.
They'll never have that sweet ignorant bliss that so many children deserve. That so many children grow up not having.
I know I can't save the world, or anyone else. I'm not trying to conquer the walls of the 38th Parallel. I'm not as blind or as stupid as to believe that I have that kind of power. I'm no Virgin Mother Mary.
I'm just a guitar-toting chick from Seoul.
But I think there's something beautiful about the sound of laughter from vocal chords that haven't yet completely matured. And I think there's something beautiful in a smile. No, not the kind that you force out, the kind that crinkles at the edges with pretention. But the kind that crinkles the corners of your eyes with sincerity; with truth.
There's something beautiful about that.
I'm not going to be as hasty to believe that I can conquer the 38th Parallel.
But I do believe that I can, at the very simplest, make someone smile.