I never write here anymore. Mostly I stopped because people from my real life were interspersed with my Tumblr life and no me gusta. This is my therapy. This is for me.
Lately I’ve been going thru these depressive states. I’m ready to leave Korea, I want out. I hate my job. I have a new job (hopefully better job) lined up for March, but the point is I’m just not happy here anymore. My bad habits have taken over and it’s too easy to make excuses for myself, rather than, let’s say, try and find a gym near my house. I’ll eat grilled cheeses to the max instead of getting off my ass and trying to find a decent gym around these parts. I drink far too much here, eat too much, spend too much. It’s all just become a life of excess and I miss the simple things like waking up, smoking a bowl and going for a walk around a beautiful lake in my old hood. Part of me is ready to pack it all up and move back home. But then I can’t because now I have this awesome boyfriend here. And I need to save more money here. And there’s no jobs back home. And I have no car back home. And I’ll likely have to live with my parents for a bit until I can find a job and a car. And honestly, I’m still having a lot of fun here. It’s not real life here. It’s like being back in my college town when everything was fun and the night life options were plentiful and there was gossip and people to fuck and people to hate and people to laugh at and people who are your new friends even though you’d give anything to be with your old friends.
I’m going home for a month next month and maybe I’ll see that there’s nothing back there for me right now. Maybe I’ll come back refreshed and ready to finish out one more year. After all, it’s always a phase. I’m not thoroughly depressed through and through. It comes and it goes, usually comes Monday thru Friday and I’m good Friday through most of Sunday. I just know that this isn’t my real life and I want a house and I want a real job. I want a real bed and and a bathtub and a sack of delicious fruity green buds and I want to swim in a pool and eavesdrop on people and not here the Korean stock phrases of “I envy you” or “Take a rest” or “It’s good for health.” I want to hug my mom and play with my kitties and walk on grass and go through a drive thru and be immersed in diversity and eat a cuban sandwich with real dill pickles. Sure, I can handle one more year. I’m resilient. And the incentive of saving a shit ton of money is incentive enough, lesbehonest. But sometimes I just want to scream at the top of my lungs and click my heels three times and be done with it all.
