Busan: International Party
It gets easier. But not as easy and as perfect as the fantasy shapes itself to be. Hardly anything that comes out of the horse's mouth turns into an orgasmic shape of affection and trust but instead of travesty and more torture. To top it all off, I clamour for the next high, or low, depending on one's point of view.
It's mental exhaustion. I don't think January is a time where goodbyes will become a forlorn thing. Indecisiveness, which has quite intermittently become a common denominator of my minute existence, serves as the main catalyst for the recipe of disaster that is about to be concocted. And every single person I meet over the course of these three months will become an accessory to this vile foolishness.
I went to Lzone again to pass my time. Having no cash with me is a primary reason to go about it. It was well worth it. I learned a couple of pointers on how to go about the remaining days of my stay here. Who knows where that takes me? Nothing makes absolute sense in my life anyway. Not without the passive guidance of Mioseon, unfortunately. It just feels a wee bit unfunnier. Same faces I've met, same unreasonable grunts and pauses. There were some cool breeze at moments and some cute ones as well, though none which threatened the foundations of my beliefs. I wish it would. I wish it'd change the foundation of my being. Not anytime soon, I reckon. Some eccentric ones were there, which I hoped never to happen again. But if it should, I hope it serves a purpose.
The Russian one seemed most interesting. Only because me and the guy from Detroit asploded our minds with this person's fucktardedness. And he seemed like a great source of evil, which can be useful in a way. I could use me some evil from time to time.
I ended up squeezing what time was left being in a group of people wanting company and we sheltered ourselves from the cold inside a Lotteria. Only then can time pass ever so slowly. And it's fucked up because time spent inside a PC bang goes by so fast. Now I'm inside a PC bang without a single pence to pay, and I'm like a retard because this stuff is the stuff of nightmares. How will I solve this predicament? Who the flying fuck knows?
Let's find out soonafter. But only after I sleep for a bit. It's getting late and tiresome. I can only last for awhile before I pass out again.
And I'm once again a Top Writer for 2013. Unrecognised, yes, but still a privilege. Congratulations to my fat fucking wanking face. Have some dignity.
Four days until Christmas, and Mioseon Park is nowhere in sight.