Cria!

LIGHT 7. i love my mom so much. i wish to write a book about her some day. maybe there are certain things a parent must not share with their child — though it is my naivete on life experiences that bottlenecks to console i can provide her, it is my boundless love that hopes she may at least confide in me. i wonder the kind of misogyny she must have suffered in her young maternal responsibilities. family matters are the one thing i seem to truly keep to myself. Cria Cuervos explores that generational misogyny in the context of an orphaned daughter — something, yet again, i cannot wholly connect with because i am but a son. i have outgrown my childhood. maybe it was so easy to do so because of how much i wanted it to be over when i was still attending busan foreign school. maybe the self-hatred i'd been coerced to take on by my peers required me to mature early. maybe (probably not) the mortality i'd been exposed to early on etched themselves into my very being. maybe it was spending my most formative years away from a hometown i never got to explore in delinquency. and yet, i find my inner child reflected off the eyes of my mother.