Big Words

Its raining in Gyeongju...

Tue, 23 Apr 2013 07:13:53 -0400

And my laptop is singing for me. It starts and stops and starts again, humming along the walls. I sit here, my mind thousands of miles away. My legs are wrapped in my blanket, “im a merman pop, a merMAN” repeats in my head.

Its funny when you’re abroad for this long you start remembering all the things you used to hate about being home. You remember it with an indescribable longing. Riding the J, wrapping around Cypress Hills heading towards 75 and elderts, the high school coming along in the distance, the sun setting on my last summer in NYC; such beautiful afternoons filled with wonder and curiosity.

Sometimes I feel like Im the only one who thinks about the past. The only one who looks at the cityscapes and remembers back on those summer days where I was looking forward to these days im living now. I look at the cityscapes and remember how I felt those days, trying to imagine everything I would be doing in the next couple months. I wasnt anywhere near correct.

How will I remember these days? How will bitter nostalgia hit me in ten years?

What is there for a man who sees in the future, lives in the presents but thinks in the past?

Summer is coming...

Sun, 21 Apr 2013 06:54:00 -0400

and with it the scent of your sun burnt skin.

Yes, I will gladly breathe you in. I will fill my desires with your scent, this summer will be immortalized, you will never smell this way again.

In our beds I will look at you and say nothing, just stare at you. You will ask me “what?” I will say nothing. Just know, Im getting lost in you, getting lost in the moments that our minds share but dont say. I get lost in the moments in between now and future, the monotonous days where nothing is new, the redundant evenings where you look at me with your annoyed eyes, the early saturday mornings where the sun peaks its head through our window, spying on us seemingly wrapped in each others love.

In these casual moments I peer into our minds eye and venture off to what will hopefully become. In our kisses on these lazy spring days I leave a mark of love and lust, that will linger long. When we look back on these days these marks will be our winkles. These winkles, I will appreciate. I’ll look at you longingly, remembering the times we laid in bed kissing, touching, loving each other. I’ll remember back every summer, every sun soaked summer and remember the one special one, the first one where we rolled around in each others love.

Another day...

Thu, 07 Mar 2013 00:26:00 -0500

Ive been sitting at my desk staring at words for the last couple days. Ive been interrupted by classes scattered throughout the days. It has been great; it has been a relief to be back in the class room.

In between those short periods I sit back at my desk and the monotony hits again, and my mind wanders again.

The new semester has begun with a big splash, and as all the teachers scurry around with the office, the classrooms, and there desks I sit here patiently waiting to take on my new class. I hope that the fervent the students have felt these last couple of days remains. Maybe it’ll make me reconsider leaving a bit earlier.

Im taking a new approach at my conversation classes. Each month will focus on a broad topic with the weekly classes being more specific to the overarching theme. The driving force will be, hopefully, interesting English activities. I’ve got to keep thinking, I’ve got to keep focused.

I have so many plans to accomplish, and to think about it, so little time to do it here, assuming I stay for only one year.

It is lent, and although I am not religious, I have decided that I will try to be more social. Not just for lent, but for life. I want to reach out to more people I care about and try and develop stronger relationships with them. Hopefully they feel compelled to reach out to me as well. If not, oh well, I work better by myself.

Cheers to another couple months.

Six months in...

Tue, 19 Feb 2013 07:15:07 -0500

six more to go.

And its all a big blur.

And it all gets old pretty quick.

Its funny, how I wake up and still cant believe im in another country. This apartment that I call home lacks the warmth of the familiar. It is a base, a base in the sense of playing tag with your friends as a child and touching the cold brick wall was a sense of protection; this apartment is that to me, not a home, just a cold brick structure of protection.

I find myself planning the future, looking forward to going home in six months, seeing my family and friends. Im tired of the lack of connections I have here. Its just a reiteration of my other life, Korea makes me appreciate my real friends that much more. It makes me appreciate myself a lot more, and at the same time wonder how life would be if I concerned myself more with the popular, and less with the interior.

Sometimes, I speak to my students more than I do anyone else. More than my coworkers, then my American friends, more than my girlfriend. A close second to her, heh. I have a nice group of kids that like hanging out with me, I hope that I can inspire them to travel, explore and learn. I hope that after this we will be friends.

Anywho, being away from the familiar forces one to be true to themselves. You can see the desperation in the faces of everyone when they first arrive. Attaching themselves to people, hoping for a connection, hoping to experience something together so many miles from home. For many people in this social experiment (thats what i’ll call it) we come expecting something. I think if i could tell anyone anything, it would be not to expect a thing. Just come, clear mind, with your baggage left at home, hopefully a clean slate. Learn all you can, and expect nothing. Then you wont be disappointed, and only surprised.

Six months left, six months to enjoy, six months to loathe, six months to grow, and nourish relationships that matter, and ignore ones that dont, six months to see, whatever there is to see.

I want to be better.

In the messages...

Tue, 05 Feb 2013 06:37:56 -0500

is where you live when you have gone.

Thats where I look to find the moments that have ceased to exist, only to remain in a digital space.

Does it exist if its in the air, if its not tangible, if its not something you can grasp but only see when a machine is turned on and is connected?

And In this world of multi connections, do you still long to be with me, physically, disconnected? Do you prefer these anti social moments when the only things said are the things that cant be heard, but only felt with exchanges of touch and synapses?

Lets be in love in the modern world, without the constant notification and need for external stimulus. We can create the moments we need to remember and keep them to ourselves. Lets do things together, lets live like we did when all we had was a land line.

You left...

Fri, 11 Jan 2013 07:14:00 -0500

a hole the size of the twin towers inside my chest when you stepped away from me.

In those eyes that I looked at so fondly at one point in our lives only holds a resentment thats been etched in stone. Somewhere, where ever you are, I know you’re being held, held the way you deserve. The hole that you left in me remains as a testament to the mistakes that cant be taken back. The hole is being filled with meaningless songs and moments of lust that I dont even remember what love really is, or if it even existed.

In my nihilism I look back and try to remember those moments we shared with a positive light. I guess my memory has been clouded by all the years of disgust. Im sorry in advance.

I do recall the last time we made love before you grew to hate who I was. I asked you never to leave me again. I asked you repeatedly to stay, whispering in your ear how much you meant to me. I felt your touch grasping my back, holding me close, your legs wrapped around my back. I smelled your skin, your hair freshly washed with shampoo; I was intoxicated by you. In your lips I found the love that was both perfect and never meant to be.

It is sweet nostalgia that kills me slowly. Since that moment I have become nothing more than a strand of your hair that fell off your head and remained in the corner of my dark attic room that summer I let you down.

7:30 Korean time...

Mon, 17 Dec 2012 06:03:00 -0500

I am prepping to do my nightly workout and pondering what to write about Korea. Ive been reading up on what everyone else has been writing on tumblr, their stories, their feelings…

My December is a waste really. My first and second graders had speaking tests for the majority, then final exams. Two weeks left till the end of the semester and then a new group of fun loving Korean first graders. My third graders are checked out; I havent taught them since before thanksgiving. Ive been plotting vacations, been plotting my escape really. I love Korea, but I dont think I could stay another year. Sometimes I feel like im losing out on so much at home, or maybe im just romanticizing the whole idea that my future is all planned out. Anywho, I hate the feeling that im stagnating here. I sit at my desk most of the day this cold month and read news. I use the bathroom when I want, say hi to students as they run past me, chat to some of my Co teachers, but not really at the same time. Its an interesting experience I wouldnt change for the world, but I cant find myself staying, at least not for the right reasons (the kids, not the convenience of money.) I enjoy 75 percent of my classes, but those four classes that just dont care, or are loud, or think im a joke just suck the life out of me. Who knows, maybe next semester things will change, maybe I’ll get pulled in and convinced for another year of adventure.

My opinions on some of these cities are as follows:

Daegu is pretty big but not overwhelming. I feel like these cities are gatherings for westerns where they create this bubble of the country, it hardly feels like Korea. It bothers me to some extent that there is a divide between us and them. I hate the bubble.

Busan, is massive and not unlike Daegu. This bubble idea exists here layered with consumerism that only Korea could create, (at least ive convinced myself). The train system is gigantic but not as big as Seoul. Its big enough to remind me of my home town of New York. This reminder makes me despise public transportation, but also appreciate The size of NY and the relative ease of traveling there. (Express Trains I love you)

My first impression of Seoul: Massive and too many people. I stepped out of Myeong-dong station and wanted to combust into a pile of ashes. Its comparable to Soho on a Saturday afternoon. But worse I would say, without the charm of Manhattan’s architecture and chinatowns lovely smell of garbage.

I love Gyeongju. I am thankful for the city, its quaint character, its historical charm, the fact that if I wanted to I could take my bike and ride for 45 minutes and be at one of the foremost temples in Korea. I love the fact that im snuggled in between mountains. I love the fog that covers the mountain ranges in the mornings and when it rains.

I love Korea, in the sense that It has a lot to offer. The nature, the freedom, the disgusting consumerism that is comforting in a sense. Korea is a place of extremes. Im glad I have another 8 months to explore it. Im glad that I have another 8 months to try and make an impression on these young korean boys, so that maybe, they will look at the world a bit differently after meeting me.

I want to say...

Wed, 05 Dec 2012 22:44:45 -0500

there is something in those eyes of yours, those eyes that seem to glance off mine like bullets to a shield, those deep brown eyes that ask me “what are you looking at me”, that makes my synapses fire uncontrollably.

And in your bed I run my fingers against your exposed skin. I wonder what youre feeling under those calm eyes, those deep lakes placed conveniently in the middle of white sand. I’ll cross any desert just to bathe in those lakes. I know not everyone makes it there, only the ones willing to journey. Only the ones that catch your attention.

And in the darkness of your room I try desperately to read the passing silence. The steady movement of your chest, the beating of your heart, im trying to read you with my finger tips. In the silence your heart beats steadily, readily for my embrace. You squeeze my body closer to yours.

In this moment I know you’re mine, and I am yours.

LOL

Tue, 04 Dec 2012 07:46:54 -0500

LOL

buzzfeed: This wild cat and fox are best friends and they live...

Tue, 27 Nov 2012 08:33:25 -0500

buzzfeed:

This wild cat and fox are best friends and they live in Turkey and are adorable.

Adorable. Foxes and cats are so cute.

Down, across the river...

Sun, 18 Nov 2012 07:19:00 -0500

to the left of building 101 and up the winding dirt road is where my apartment is snuggly placed between two mountain ranges. Ive fallen in love with the early morning walks in between these mountains. Their faces always so cordial in the distance, their lines shaped and morphed by the lights, the thin clouds that seem to cover there heads like top hats, and the sun peaking out and from under them during the ends and beginnings of these shorter days. Ive fallen for them.

There is a crispness in the air. Its sharp on the lungs; a splinter to the throat. I dread those initial steps out of the comfort of my bed. Sometimes, in the mornings, I roll around more and remember the way she felt in my arms the weekend that passed. Her scent lingers on my clothes and skin for days. Its these little moments that I replay in my head over and over somedays. Her tight hugs and my overwhelming amounts of kisses.

I wonder when she’ll get tired of this, tired of me.

Life is a long road they say. I like to think of life as a collection of moments strung along a string. Something in the vein of a precursor to film, rotating the camera to capture these moments that will either be remembered or forgotten, thrown away from the string. When youre finished only the most important moments, the synopsis of life remain really. At the end, as the editor, what will you choose to remember?

I’ll dedicate my life to love.

charliebink: “Ambush” All my samurai art lately has been...

Mon, 05 Nov 2012 07:17:08 -0500

charliebink:

“Ambush”

All my samurai art lately has been leading up to this piece. I’d really like to do a series of prints that depict various scenes of an epic Samurai story. What do you think tumblr? Would you be interested in more like this? Let me know!

Thought this was pretty cool.

When im older...

Wed, 31 Oct 2012 07:41:00 -0400

how will i remember you? You, with your ombre hair that falls past your shoulders.

You, with the wrinkles by your eyes but only 24. You, with the thin lips and perfect porcelain smile. How will I remember you?

Will our memories be filled with quiet walks down the large avenues of Korean cities?

Will you remain in my thoughts with your eyes closed, head facing the wall as I joyfully play along your landscape, secretly filling myself with your essence, filling myself with you?

Can I figure you out, figure out what makes your lips break into a smirk.

If I knocked on your door, would you answer twenty years from now?

Would you look at me with your endearing eyes?

Do you look at me and see something more than just now, more than the seconds that are passing; when you close your eyes do you see me marking the end of the year?

I wonder, when im older, will you hold on to me, hold on to me like a leaf to a branch when the wind blows?

Will I be blown away far from you?

Thoughts...

Fri, 19 Oct 2012 01:51:00 -0400

Everyday I wake up to some malformed version of myself. My body has attached itself to the blanket; ive become some human, taco, comforter creature that is struggling to get out of bed because, lets face it, its 60 something degrees in my apartment and I have to walk to school in about 20 minutes. I want to say im in shock, but im not, my body realizes quickly that I am still in fact in Gyeongju, and that this is truely my home for the next 10 months. I slipp on my slippers, roll the deodorant over my skin, brush my teeth and set up for the day. Tupper wear full of cereal, check, drinking glass, check, midday snack, check. I leave, my door makes a chirpy song like sound as I walk down the stairs.

The walk to school isnt very far by my New York City standards, twenty minutes has never been a big deal. I walk past my apartment building in between two farms. The road is paved but dirt has made its home on it. I dodge cars on this small road before hitting the main road. To my left are high rise buildings, a testament to Korean living; building up has become there staple. To my right, a river, lacking of water and power. It is a river nonetheless; the brisk cool that it generates drops the temperature in my area by a couple of degrees, im convinced.

Past the high rise buildings there are farms and past the farms there are mountain ranges. I make a right where the street that leads me to my school intersects with the river and the high rises.I follow the street, heading north, I feel the warmth on my right cheek, the only welcoming feeling of the otherwise cool day. At the top of the hill, my school waits. The cars cycle through the parking lot waiting to drop off students. The principle is key in welcoming the students and so are other teachers who I bow to out of respect. The leaves are starting to change in Gyeongju, autumn is coming; my first autumn outside of the states.

It will be a lonely season, and the winter will come and go, and that too will be lonely. The korean that I dont understand will ring through my ears and out into the world. The students will look at my blankly, or continue their chatter, or say ridiculous things and Ill wonder even more if what im saying is actually making its way into someones head.

buzzfeed: There is no friendship quite like the friendship...

Fri, 12 Oct 2012 21:12:22 -0400

buzzfeed:

There is no friendship quite like the friendship between a man and his bear.

Adorable

Be...

Thu, 11 Oct 2012 10:42:05 -0400

the music in my headphones.

Be the ringing in my ears.

Be the darkness under my covers in the evenings.

Be the beating of my drum.

Be the sound of my laughter.

Be the remaining foam on the beach.

Be everything.

Just be.

Be everything to me.

hmm...

Mon, 08 Oct 2012 22:35:00 -0400

A little under two months in over here and things are not too bad. Last week was shortened because of Chuseok, thats the Korean equivalent of Thanksgiving for us North Americans. Ended up going to a city about two hours north of me called Andong for the traditional mask festival. While there, my friends and I met this really cool local who had great english skills and he pretty much directed us to the must sees for the weekend. He lives in Seoul and was in town for the weekend. We had some chicken broth with noodles and some veges which was delcious (a local specialty called jjimdak) and embraced the carnival like atmospher that encompassed Andong.

Since the week was shortened Ive been traveling mostly, did Andong, then Daegu (capital of Gyeongsangbuk-do) last week and enjoyed my Wednesday here in Gyeongju. Teaching, none of that last week or this week for that matter. My kids are taking midterms and Im taking this opportunity to update this with some kind of substance. Ive been trying to take a new approach to my lessons, (which ill officially start planning tomorrow). I currently have no direction and have complete control of what I choose to teach. Instead, I want to try and intergrate some of the key phrases and vocab from each chapter and revolve my lessons around that. My cos seem down for it, and I love more structure anyways. Activities are what always kill me, and thinking up activities should be frustrating at best.

I spent this weekend exploring Gyeongju with some good company. All and all cant complain. Trecking through the rough patches, enjoying the good ones. I wouldnt say its hard just yet, but I do miss my mates back home. I miss the conveniences.

We used to...

Wed, 03 Oct 2012 10:06:00 -0400

ride into the night without a goal, but with just an idea and a borrowed car. The idea, to get as far away from the house that the car could take us and that we could afford to shell back into it. It was a simple idea, with the best intentions. We would ride with our home behind us. The music blaring, singing along like children, like we were 12 again. Except were not 12, were 22 with no where to go and nothing to call our own.

I would accelerate just to feel the power under my foot. We would go, with our restless souls leading us across the city that everyone says they own. We all know the city owns us, were its pawns, its players, its prostitutes. The city lights would illuminate our eyes, but not our lives. Our hearts can never find the peace that they deserved. And we would keep going, back, over the 59th street bridge, and back on the 495. I would push it, faster, 55, 65, 75. We would come to a halt, but it didnt matter. Our lives often stop, just to start back up again. Joyce Manor would play “Im a constant headache, a tooth out of line, they try to make you regret you tell em no not this time.” Our voices would bounce off the windows in an odd harmony. But we would keep going. We drove far from the city to homes of friends who moved on with their lives but have been caught up in the same dreadful early to mid twenties dread. And we would all go. Go for cheap food, for good conversations, for meaningful reminders that true friends are few and far between.

We would go, and go, and go. And I would be reminded, reminded that distance doesnt heal the heart. It just elongates the memories. When we returned home, our journey had finished, our minds were put at ease releasing the frustrations of the weeks, of the girls in our lives, of anything that had been plaguing us. At least as a temporary remedy to our ailing predicament.

I call it my roaring twenties.

You heard it from Donatello!

Wed, 26 Sep 2012 07:44:32 -0400

You heard it from Donatello!

Broke down...

Tue, 25 Sep 2012 10:34:50 -0400

in front of a class today.

Its like all my frustrations, emotions and any residual feelings that have accumulated since I’ve come to Korea came surging forward in one unrelenting rush. Im usually good under tough situations, but this class just sucks the life out of me.

Anywho, I turned around and tried to hold back the tears while my Co tried to console me but there was no coming back really. I let the emotions that I usually hold up inside overcome my calm facade.

It’s not easy, trying to motivate students. I battle the language barrier everyday. I try to think of entertaining activities, and interesting topics, but for some you cant gain their attention, or their respect in a sense. Everyday isnt this bad, but when its bad its like a blow to my soul.

I take things too hard, I shouldnt care so much maybe. ugh.

One of my students who remains anonymous was kind enough to write me a letter along with a 1000 won bill (?). Made me more emotional but It was a kind gesture nonetheless.

When I saw you today, you look tired

I know the reason why you tired and cry

some time, I cry because I hate this students

korean students are all most very bad and I live in them so, I think that I am as you as tired.

Im sorry that I cant stop them because I’m not stronger then them

But im sure someday, we will be happy.

Cheer up

We can do it.

-Your great student.

I know I cant help all the students, just sucks.

Im happy that I have some students that appreciate me, and for all of the others, hopefully down the line they can appreciate me too. I sure want to help them in whatever way they need.