I had the sense that I was slowly swimming in cold jelly or I was covered in mercury underneath the mirror. While my body was placed in a remote location, in a small place in Asia, I was unable to overcome the time difference awash in the transparent jelly. I wrote a letter to my mother. 'Mom, did you know that the taste of jelly is different in each region and each country? Those sold at the Centre Pompidou tastes rather sour, and those sold at the cafeteria in the University of Chicago is so crumbly. Besides, you can't imagine the amount of sugar that is thickly slopped over. I remember the jelly sold in Seoul which was so tough like plastic'