yong kim

English is my second language. I learned it in the most formulaic way possible, through rules, memorization, and repetition. And mastering it is still a work in progress.

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The English language still feels like a barrier. It often stands between who I am on the inside and how the world sees me. Yet, when I write, I feel understood.

 

I write when the house is quiet. Early in the morning or long after midnight. I write when my thoughts are restless, overwhelmed by work or heavy with life. I write not because I have time, but because I have to.

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Writing is how I reach the story I carry inside me. It’s not work. It’s not a hobby. It’s an act of love. Too hard to pursue for any reason other than love.