i am the son of a father, who is the son of a father, climbing up the branches until the only thing remaining of the fathers are their slight furrowed brow and the rumble of their voice.
my fathers (duality of man, duality of self) are both artistic, though my father (birthing) is performative and my father (familial) is technical. i think i'd rather grow up to become my father (birthing) because my father (familial) is cynical and has brought that weight upon me.
he (birthing) was dancing, yet left, leaving mother to let me drift out of her orbit. i wonder if they got back together. i am so used to being a cynic that i resent them. i resent leaving things, sentimental as always. that is the maternal side of me. the paternal side is heckling the missing + glaring to the sun to revoke its name. he never had sent her a message, not even a letter scrawled in all red saying i miss you.
he (familial) intermingled himself with paints, charcoals, and watercolors. i have seen his work and it feels like wading through rice-paper oceans and washi tape glass pools. it is dipping myself into the wrong culture, but the right family and i am conflicted. historically, korea and japan were never meant to be together. but growing, as most natural processes are, is healthy. so i branch away from pasts into futures, still wistful for my father (birthing).
i am unsure whether or not i inherit anything at all from my homeland. my name, sure, "he who shall grow to be as virtuous as the sun". still, the sun revolving around the earth is long disproven so i am not so sure that i can be inheriting anything at all. my father (familial) is cynical and often stubborn and i too, the son of a father, am cynical and stubborn.
i wonder if all sons of fathers are, as kin, akin to them, in some abstract, tangential way. i see mothers in sons and daughters but less so do i see the father in the son. or at least, it is ignored. do animals also act like fathers? timid cats making timid kittens. is the paternal instinct strong even within the non-human?
am i human? as the son of a father, am i the father to a son? will my actions now transpose into a cynical mess, stubborn and unwilling to change? will he too be short-fused and distracted? paternal makers were once emotion-inherited, so maybe my son can become some sort of melancholic artist, and wade through my fathers' absences to make a partial whole.
he will be the son of a father, who is a son of two fathers, who is forever a cynic but never absent. he can, for himself, climb up the branches, and there he will see the note i had scrawled out for him, paternally maternal, and i will be there, furrowing my brow at him.
Points: 19
Reviews: 2
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