Flame, Glass and Ink are Poems, essays, and reading notes by Stefania Joori Suh

Tag: journal

  • I love you, my dear Camille

    My Camille is unwell now. He eats, drinks, and defecates, but I know there’s something wrong with his demeanor, mood, and aura. No, it’s not a hyped reaction from an overly protective spinster guardian, but I ohknow. It worries me to death; it pains me to no end. I am so thankful for his little heart pumping beneath his sleek, straight black fur, and on the other hand, I inwardly recoil in fear that what if it begins to slow and then stop? 

    I have noticed that when I pet Camille, he secretes a fluid with a noticeable smell, which isn’t terrible. I thought it was his way of expressing content when petted, and my research shows it’s partly true. Partly it is due to his anal gland charge, which worries me. So, I think maybe it’s a complication of the anal glands and other organ infections, such as liver or urinary. 

    And it plunges me so low into the abyss of grief, echoed in guilt for Camille’s condition because I have not been so loving or patient with Camille’s urge to play. He tends to eat frequently, almost every 10 minutes or so. Even though I always ensure my cats’ bowls are full of dry food with water, Camille prefers wet food. He eats small but many times. It might indicate diabetic symptoms. I feel like a terrible guardian, and more terrible is losing him – which is unthinkable! Let present fears less than horrible imaginings! 

    I just made an appointment with a vet to check him this Saturday. I hope Camille is not seriously ill. 

  • Shooting star

    He shouldn’t have been there. No, not at that McDonald’s or any McDonald’s where random people might have seen him. For the class of people he seems to care about, that’s how they perceive him. What an irony it is—sad but true.

    Mangione must have been incredibly hungry to eat at a McDonald’s while knowing he was on the run.

    Did he think he wouldn’t be caught? It seemed almost naive in a boldly youthful way. Mind you, I am not endorsing his killing of the CEO of UnitedHealthcare on his way to the “investment” conference. Still, his motives reflect some of the ancient and medieval ideas of self-evident justice—his actions against the unjust. The entire narrative feels like an adventurous tale about a young knight.

    He comes from a wealthy background, much like our new president-elect, Donald Trump. However, there is a key difference: Mangione is a well-read, articulate thinker and writer who empathizes with the have-nots. He does not feel entitled or complacent about his status and circumstances. Here is a young man who truly cares about those outside the boundaries of social protection—those without health insurance or, even if they have it, without enough benefits.

    He is an unlikely person in an unusual situation.

  • entry from this universe – #1

     To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
    Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
    To the last syllable of recorded time;
    And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
    The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
    Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player
    That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
    And then is heard no more. It is a tale
    Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury
    Signifying nothing.
    — Macbeth (Act 5, Scene 5, lines 17–28)

    It’s been a long time since I last wrote in this online journal. To my surprise, I found out that all my past entries are gone! I have tried fruitlessly locating them, but Penzu has no such easy function to retrieve the past entries UNLESS you have to upgrade to a present version! So, that’s how they make a profit from their business. But as I think of it as some kind of sign to refresh my life, I will not attempt to retrieve the bygone times.

    It’s nice to write anything now using my cute iPad. Don’t get me wrong. I love writing, even though I am not perfect at English grammar. I love the English language and the way of western cilivization, even if the people who were born into the culture do not seem to take a liking to me. I consider the English language to be the most efficient global lingua franca. It’s convenient and catholic. So, what the hell! I am not scared of writing in English because I love the language and the act of writing in it.

    So, job-wise, I think I am doing okay because I am still working at the same place as a case manager assistant. I believe I work the most diligently and efficiently in my team, which is mainly composed of younger people. Yeah, the glorious MZ Generation. But they will not stay young any longer, and mind you and them; they will one day lament the bygone days of their youth. Well, I guess you have already noticed my not-so-kind opinion about them, which might have come from my experience working with them. Hell, yeah!

    Oh well. Enough for pouring this hateful rant about the deplorable generation. I want to focus on the rest of my life and take control of it. I am considering setting up and running my own small online business selling cat toys and cat-themed fancy stationery items via Etsy. Or maybe Amazon. I am seriously considering such a business prospect as a plan B for my economic act, always having backup financial resources in force in significant situations. I do not want to repeat, though helplessly, depressive times when I do not have a job.

  • Cat who thinks himself

    Toro thinks

    My cat thinks

    Not that he is a cat.

    But hey! Who knows?

    He is a human who never

    got to see the sun of life

    but returned from the other

    Not drinking from the Lethe

    wearing a cat-skin in tabby 

    to live with his family, poor

    but rich with love and care.

    The cat knows the secrets

    of life and the life beyond, 

    and this universe he lives

    he knows it’s one of many

    he has seen in his cat’s eyes

    he has traveled in paws. 

    No wonder he is so beautiful. 

  • Prompt 213 on my beneficiaries

    If you had a million dollars to give away, who would you give it to?

    Sister Teresa of Calcutta said charity begins at home, and I agree with her wholeheartedly. If you do not care for those close to you, then you can’t care for others, even if you would deny it. But of course, that doesn’t mean my neighbors!

    That said, if I should be so lucky – oh, so lucky! – to have a fortune to give away, I would first help my brother so that he could clear away his financial burdens and help him start his new family. Then, I will look for our relatives who may be struggling financially. Thereafter, I will donate funds to my church and ask the priest to help parishioners who are having difficulty with healthcare, housing, and educational costs.

    I would love to say I would donate a million dollars to well-known charity organizations with noble causes, but these are my wishes to help people with my lucky fortune.

  • prompt 212 – fish out of water

    Tell us about a time when you felt out of place.

    Hopeful when alone

    When I read the story of the stranded Beluga whale who died in France’s Seine River in 2022, I felt like my spirit was in communion with hers because I could feel what she might have felt—what was once hopeful turned into disappointment and loneliness.

    No one knew what caused her to separate from her pod and end up in the river, but I think she wanted to see the world herself, with the images of kind humans she had once seen on the ocean in her memory. So she came to our world full of expectations for welcoming faces and smiles, but instead, she found herself in a murky gray urban river that made her loneliness more conspicuous, more incongruent.

    Likewise, that’s how I feel when I find myself surrounded by crowds that make my presence awkwardly conspicuous, shielded by an invisible wall of willing ignorance.