허가 없는 진실
Official language prefers a clean corridor. People remember alleys, rainwater, a copied page folded four times, and the exact hand that passed it on.
truth travels sideways →무허가 제1호 · Parallel Republic Broadsheet
jungchi.boo
정치는 종이 위의 잉크가 아니라, 촛불 옆에 선 사람들의 떨리는 목소리다.
Politics is not ink on paper, but the trembling voice beside candlelight.
읽고 · 접고 · 건네라
게시판
The Notice Wall
검열된 목소리
When every broadcast claims one voice, count the silences. Each blank line is a witness, each witness an archive that refuses sleep.
! 지워진 줄도 기록이다마을의 의회
Democracy first rehearses itself around battered tables: rice bowls pushed aside, pencils shared, a grandmother correcting the minutes.
기억의 도장
A vermillion seal does not certify power here. It marks the places where ordinary hands pressed history back into view.
손으로 그은 연표
Timeline Ribbon
1960students carry the street into the assembly
1980names whispered survive the blackout
1987June rain turns into a chorus
2016candles redraw the public square
Margin Voices
“The page is not neutral. It remembers who was allowed to write.”
— 어느 서기의 메모“A ballot is small enough to hide in a sleeve, large enough to frighten a palace.”
— 교실 가장자리“민주주의는 완성품이 아니라, 밤마다 다시 묶는 끈이다.”
— 촛불 옆 낙서“No ruler owns the weather of a crowd.”
— margin note in blue ink촛불은 서로의 얼굴을 기억한다.
The candle remembers every face it has made visible.