Corpo Real

Corpo Real

Seen, heard, touched, tasted, and smelled. Written by Ithaka O. but not necessarily about her.

And so I like making playlists for everything I write. 🎶 🎼 🎵

✋ 🌑 ☀️

The loving hug. The gentle touch. The tender pat. They sound nice, for those who don't kill or get killed.

Laika is nine years old and her hands have never touched anything.

“Touched,” as in felt the friction, heat, or coolness of another person or object.

Because, you see, her hands make matter vanish. It only takes less than a second. Way before she feels a thing, that which is touched disappears, poof.

Even the milk cartons that the nuns install around her wrists to serve as shields. Even the air molecules that her fingers brush against. And sometimes, yes, even living organisms.

Laika might be the loneliest girl on Earth. She lives with the void.



Howl’s Moving Castle,” the movie version, is an anime from Japan. In it, a giant flying castle shows up. The movie is so, so beautiful.

The allure of animation is that the things you couldn’t possibly choose as a creator (if you were to work with real humans) can be chosen, can be fine-tuned in the animated world.

I’m talking about the world and what it looks like, quite literally. Not just the laws of physics, such as “Oh, in this world, people fly.” It’s more than that.

For example, if you decide that in your animated world, people’s eyes will take up half their faces, then that’s the world they live in. None of the characters will suddenly shout out, “But this isn’t what real people look like!”


It was a great time to make this particular playlist.

Music theme: space nostalgia!

#music #2022archive

P.S. Call me Ithaka. Everything I do is organized here.


You know what actually terrifies me?

Unicorns—just the thought of their cloying eyes, big and empty like smooth marbles.

Rainbows—their multicolored elation, delirious and fanatic like a drunkard’s idea of good company.

And the noise of perpetual laughter where it’s so loud and consistent that it becomes visible. As in, you can see the vibrations in the air, and it’s all dizzy, sounds become visuals and visuals become sounds until you can taste the disorientation on your tongue.

That’s horror for me.

Something has to be wrong if a person can’t stop laughing. Something’s terribly wrong.

#terror #delirium #2022archive

P.S. Call me Ithaka. Everything I do is organized here.


I am so hooked.

Listening to this, I immediately think of:

  • a city that is walkable (meaning, narrow roads with stuff to actually look at, like individual shops instead of department stores or malls and parking lots)
  • late night but safely lit without being glaring
  • fashionably drunk on some low-alcohol-degree drinks (ex: wine rather than vodka)
  • warm Asian soup-type dishes (ex: udon, honghabtang, stuff like that)
  • rivers (Why? I don’t know. Maybe because it flows? Maybe because on the riverside, there’s wind? Not too hot, not too cold?)
  • distant laughter of people I don’t know

Garhghgh. 🖤

#2022archive #music

P.S. Call me Ithaka. Everything I do is organized here.


There was no in-between: either she was hungry or she was full. Between those two states, she forgot to think about the workload of her digestive system at all.

Was there too much or too little to process?

She didn’t know.

Plenty of other things screamed for her attention: the buzzing of her cell phone on the desk, the resulting rattling of little clips and pens, and her eyes involuntarily flitting toward the phone.