The recording starts off with a slightly shaky view of the glass sliding door of Soojung's balcony, and a faint sound of a motorcycle zooming by -- presumably one of those delivery bikes -- can be heard in the background. There's a short sigh that seems more out of content than burden, though the second one is quite questionable. Her voice is soft and airy, almost otherworldly, as she speaks up just loud enough for the camera to catch it. She continues filming the four-in-the-afternoon sky.

"It's so... The world is so fragile, and it's beyond terrifying to realize that in any moment's time, my life can be altered just by a fraction of a second. I had to turn off the news just so I can recollect my thoughts. Things happen so quickly, and sometimes it's a terrible tragedy, and yet life moves on for those not affected directly."

The camera's viewpoint shifts as Soojung stands from the edge of her bed, her arm appearing in the bottom left-hand corner of the screen as she points somewhere off in the distance. The pad of her index finger presses up against the cool glass. "The Han River is somewhere this direction and moves off to the opposite side, I'm sort of perpendicular to it," she explains, her fingertip grazing over the window to somehow show the path. "The river is nothing like the sea, of course, but it's still pretty scary to even think about it. Over two-hundred-and-seventy people are still missing somewhere, either in the ferry boat or the water, and the death count is still going up slowly..."

Soojung's voice trails off as she lets out another sigh, one much similar to the second one from before. "I'm supposed to be doing the next prompt for this project, but it's just really too much, you know?" She flips the camera so that it faces her now; the screen is nearly filled with white before the white balance adjusts and properly captures her features. Her face is quite solemn, but she pulls the corners of her lips up into a small smile towards the lens.

"It's utterly heartbreaking -- most of these kids are only three years younger than I am, and they had their entire lives set out for them; imagine their parents right now..." 

Finding herself trailing off again, she shakes her head as if to rid her mind of such thoughts, looking back into the lens. "It's heart-wrenching, but, as terrible as this might sound, it's also reminding me that I am so lucky and so blessed, even with my parents so far away from me right now. It's another reminder to always try my best to stay kind to others because, one day, I might not have the liberty of having enough time to tell everyone the right things."

She turns her head to her right, eyes glancing up at the clock, the sudden silence of the studio apartment making the clock's ticking sound infinitely louder than usual. Her voice is a soft whisper once again, "I'll keep it short for today," before she clears and puts all of her attention back on the black camera. "Today is the seventeenth of April, two-thousand-and-fourteen, about fifteen minutes before five-o'-clock, day six. End."

--

548.
( I kept forgetting to post this short update up for a while now, so the ferry situation seems a bit far behind. )