Tuesday, September 29, 2009

365 +

This was intended to stop at day 365. Unforeseen circumstances have changed things. I find that I'm biding the time until my return to my Native Country comes...I will then stop being called a Native Speaker. How do I bide my time? I watch Korean Dramas online, and I've seen more movies in the past year than in my entire life. After the foot-breaking, it's not so easy to get out a take a walk...the cast is gone, but a limp is still there. Soon I will sift through the year's accumulation, and I must be ruthless about what stays in my posession and what goes to the landfill. Not what I'm best at, really. I'm a hoarder. Luckily, Sheela can help me. Dear Sheela, a good friend, is coming to visit in little over a week. Until then, fictional characters and the stuff of legend will be my company.
In a few days, Chusok, one of the three main yearly holidays occurs. I will go to the sea, I will go celebrate with a family, I will go back to the sea, and perhaps I will go to Japan. In a short time, I will go home.

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Only, it wasn't a dream

So, after I break my foot falling out of the bathroom in the "special nore bang" on the "special step" that magically appears when you expect to put your foot on ground, I ate a live prawn and took another step toward being Irezumi Ona before we ventured to the psychadelic rock festival in the woods where paintings express eternal love and oneness with everything while Sato Yukie rocks out with his fox tailed bandmates and the next morning walk down a mountainside farmer's trail to a bus stop near flower beds, and am picked up by a friendly japanese man on the way...it's too bad my friend broke something in the back seat...and then we went to the minbak in the valley and I played H-O-R-S-E, but we stopped at H-O-R and I was winning.

We went to the train station and on the way I left my friend on the side of the road but we found each other at the train station and I didn't know where I was going and couldn't move because my legs wouldn't work and I cried and wanted to be alone, but it was too late, I wasn't alone anymore.

After a week of silence, I got on a train and then took an elevator to the 37th floor. There was an empty apartment and a tiny dog who scratched at my astro-turf green cast and begged to be held. I held her.

Soon after, I chopstick-picked up octopus tentacles with the suckers still suckering to the plate, then they suckered to my teeth and tounge, but it was nothing compared to the wriggling prawn-legs of the past, so I liked it and ate another. We went to FUZZY NAVEL and watched a lady make BLUE SKY and set them on fire. 2 cups were drained with straws while alcohol burned blue flame. We decided to sit outside and a man came to disturb our peace so my friend broke a potted plant over his head and I asked him for my bag back and then we went and hid out at the gangster's house until we were sure we wouldn't have to slip out of the city unnoticed. After dawn, we were sure we were fine except for my friend's maybe broken hand and slept for a few hours before getting back on the train to the quiet town.

I spent another week speaking slowly and then went to the city where I could speak quickly and a REGGAE PERM was performed, but not on my head. On my head were 6 eyes and feathers, and I hopped to reggae music, and misplaced an umbrella cane before singing lullabies with my voice multiplied. In the morning I was back in the place where I speak slowly but communicate.

and I called a friend.

It seems like it was dreaming, but I'm not asleep, and it wasn't a dream. It was a run-on sentence.