Time is running out
You must make tons of money before the world implodes.
You must take on every new and extra job you can because there might not be a next one.
You must get married before you are too old.
You must learn Korean so you can do all of the above.
You are approaching half a century.
Your number is almost up, and you are behind, a master of nothing.
Not even dealing with pain.
Korea gives me blisters
Well, not only me but everybody.
Imagine if every shoe store was a Payless Shoes or a couture boutique.
So, we must buy vinyl at the stores for Korean commoners.
Which = blisters
Kind of like Capitalism shoes on Confuscian feet, which also = blisters
Nothing quite fits right, and they rub in all the wrong places.
My new favorite subway game is to count the blisters on Korean feet
But it’s hard to tell because there are so many layers of them.
This is why so many sensible people wear socks with their sandals.
Choose this ROK or this rock
So I owe Uncle Sam $8,000 and that means YET ANOTHER YEAR of working in Korea without even beginning to hack away at other debts.
Do I even want to be here? Some days yes. Some days no. Most days no. I want to be given another choice. I always want to go to the island of misfit toys, where we are all different and flawed and nobody accepts us so we make a point to accept everyone. Sometimes I just feel trapped.
If I kiss a Korean, will that seal my fate forever?