Jet Lag
170 × 200 mm, 41 pages, saddle-stitched; printed at home with a Canon PIXMA PRO-100 on 25 lb Hammermill matte copy paper; Springhill matte paper, 110 lb cover; 1 dummy; 2023.
Prologue I had no idea what it was at first. The farthes place I had been before I came here was Chiang Mai in Thailand, which only has two hour time difference from where I was. Ten thousand plus five hundred ninety four kilometres away, on the opposite side of the earth, I fell asleep while walking on the street in the dark day, and I cracked a joke that I didn’t even understand clearly to a corroded hortensia at white night.
I got used to the time difference but there were things that I still didn’t. It has to do with the colour of the sun from the different angle, the weight of the air that flew without any hindrance, and the smell of marijuana coming from here and there on the street. Also with my disconnected relationship in which I saw the damn old super Dwight awkwardly every day but he even wouldn’t notice it even if I died right now.
I still have no idea. I thought seriously multiple times about where I came from and what the place I am in now is. Just like a computer that can’t get adapted to a new specification is lagging, I only felt the delay between what I saw and heard. I don’t know if I’ll come back where I came when this is resolved so I long for it again.