The Hitchhiker’s Guide
Winter 2016
Dreams, Nightmares, Dark Matter December 2016 Seoul, South Korea Yongsan International School of Seoul The Hitchhiker’s Guide
Cherry Blossom 1, 2, 3 Lina Park
In the sky I see Not only the stars that shine But of you and me
The Rest Jean Kim
The Source Jaydon Han
Internal Bleeding Stephanie Park My mouth is an open wound. It took sixteen years to scab over, but then I picked at it So now it's bleeding secrets again. I staple it shut when I leave for school in the morning And the excess liquid forces its way out of my eyes, Always at the worst times. At least a nosebleed gets you a pass to the nurse. Back home, in the bathroom, I pluck the metal bits out one by one and vomit red onto the mirror. The door is locked. I have plenty of time to clean up.
Mystery Man Daniel Hwang
Road to Nowhere Jaydon Han
Render I Thus to Thee @I.shall.keep.cryptik Caesar, Receive the confession, of my position: See the crisp black lines, see broad white spaces, Bridges sturdy, unfordable places; Hear me now I pray. Render I thus to thee: Loyalty not obedience. Not a pinch of fragrance burning, Yet for our lands, fierce-some yearning. This love, restrained, yields Pericles; But never Ares. Render I thus to thee: Not idle worship but real love. My life to give, only freely, With resolve, defending steely. Loyalty, like Cinncinatus; But never Venus. Render I thus to thee, For giving more would grant you less. Your gates, I pray, adorned in ruth, With lovingkindness and with truth. A half-god that I could repose; But never Christos.
A World of Fear Jessica Choe A world of fear, full of scary emotions and relationships Bitterness and broken bonds Cliques and carelessness Death and darkness Enormous encumbrance Fighting for the last breath in our eternal fight against the world Getting close to giving up Hardly aware of the pressure we are harboring Inherently wanting more than this hideous illusion of fear Joking around with friends to hide what is lurking inside Keeping our insecurities tightly bound within ourselves Letting go of nothing Momentarily immersed in the fear and horror Nightmares – need to escape the nightmares, need to discover true, pure, life Again
Eyes of the Tiger Sophia Shin
The Cars Flew By Anonymous It was the middle of winter. He had a chance to go to the park with his dad. It’s been 11 years, and he still remembers the terrible hot dog, the gift from his father, the tension, and the cars flying by. And when summer came, 11 years later The one person who he needed was now a stranger. A summer of awkward smiles. He wanted more, but hated himself for it. He dreaded spending time with the one person he spent 11 years looking for. The boy had seen what the youth wasn’t supposed to. He remembers the fights in the dark, the hidden secrets, the pictures, and the cars continuing to fly by. Like nothing ever happened.
Film Lina Park
Reflection Sophia Shin
Twilight Box Katie Yoon Corrugated cardboard box, tucked inside the attic. Forgot and fatigued, frayed edges peeling, cracking debilitated. Opened one twilight eve, photos came spilling out with memories of long ago, the orb of night's luminescence gushed in, cream-colored lace trims the horizon. Voices from the past pine, singing of childhood days, lost dreams and hopes so far-out they travelled to outer space and dimensions beyond. Pearly drops of tears trickled, seeping into the sheets of paper pulp, percolates to the worn, damp corners of the box. From among the stars above those trumpeting petals of yellow, orange and red lull the ache, ebb, pacify hush.
Spirits Megan Yu that they should disappear when they are seen that they may be lost when they are touched; that they might have been truly loved in every way, yet with each passing know not.
Summer Nightmare Rachel Kim
sleep Jeiho Kim Sleep. I sleep to forget. Forget all the terrible things that happened during the day And sometimes the good ones too. Sleep. I sleep to remember. Remember that not everything has to be crap And that we can dream, if we have the will to. Sleep. I sleep to escape. Escape from reality to a world that is wholly my own And find peace there, Only to be woken up to find myself In a nightmare. Sleep. I sleep to rest. Rest from the endless marathon With nothing at the finish line. Sleep I sleep to explore Explore the confines of my own imagination Hoping to find solace But only finding empty thoughts instead. Sleep I sleep to create Create things that even I could never dream of And forget them upon waking Sleep A time of tranquility for some A time of distress for others A time for ourselves.
Nightmare woods Bia Nam
Dusk Rachel Kim
Landscape Lina Park
Wireless Lina Park
Ooze Stephanie Park My anger is wet. It squelches when I pick it up, gets stuck beneath my fingernails, stains my palms a murky red. It crawls up my arms like mercury, and when I try to scrub it off it bubbles and gurgles and thickens. I hide it in my shoes. It soaks into my socks and weighs down every step. I stuff it into my pockets, gritting my teeth when I feel it soak through my jeans to drip down my thighs. When all else fails, I stuff it into my mouth and swallow until my eyes water and I choke on the taste of bile. It settles in my stomach and stays there, congealing. Sometimes I still taste chunks of it in the back of my throat. When it overflows, I find new ways to dispose of it: applying it to canvas with a paintbrush, storing it in ballpoint pen cartridges, using it as printer ink. It’s still sticky and gross, but at least now it’s useful. …Until I get careless. When I do, my anger leaks from between my lips like spit, drips from beneath my sleeve to land on a friend’s jacket, in my sister’s hair. Sometimes I let it overflow on purpose, spilling it onto the expensive rug in front of my mother, or splashing it across a classmate’s cheek. Every once in a while, I succeed in purging a bit of the poison. I gingerly hand it to my friends, and it dissolves in their palms like snowflakes. But most of the time I just curl up into a ball on the floor, letting it ooze out of me, making my own little corner of filth. Honestly I can’t tell the difference between it and my blood anymore, and I’m starting to think there’s no difference at all.
Waves Yoona Choi
Cats on a Wall Sophia Shin
Wonderland Jaydon Han
Dancing Yoona Choi
DREAMS Megan Yu A dream is a whisper that slips into the mind, soft and insistent as the gold of dusk like the scent of summer bloomed soft, unfurling its petals in the silence of the night. A dream is a star for the most broken of dreamers, waking in the early shadows of a dawn still heavy with the darkness of rain. And a dream, is when the clouds slip away and the light breaks through, tumbling across the sky in one final delight— like a storm of stars falling from the sky, falling with the dreams of dreamers.
EDITORIAL OFFICERS RachelKim DanielHwang MeganYu JessicaChoe Ms. A. Atkinson
ARTISTS LinaPark JeanKim JaydonHan DanielHwang BiaNam SophiaShin RachelKim YoonaChoi
WRITERS StephaniePark JessicaChoe JeihoKim KatieYoon MeganYu @I.shall.keep.cryptik Anonymous
hitchhikersguideyiss.tumblr.com