Most of my writing these days is scribbled into napkins and receipts while I walk the solitary, overcrowded streets of South Korea. They're usually one of two things- letters to my family, or the one I'm letting into my heart again. Or to myself. I guess that makes it three things, and I'm a liar. Oh well.
I've made some enemies over the last week or so. Sometimes the nicest thing you can do for somebody is be an absolute monster and let them feast on a lie so that they walk away from you with no looking back. And sometimes there is no true relief for the things that are said, true or not. It is not my job to make people think I'm not a piece of "scum", "trash", "an asshole", a "liar", or anything else. It is not my job to convince everybody that I am who I am, or that I'm not who I'm not. Though I can't say that's always easy to ignore. Sometimes when you play something over in your head enough times, it starts to take pieces of the truth and switch them with the lies. And those lies, backed by the roar and jeers of those who'd wish to see you fall, can become heavy. It can be frustrating knowing that their minds games are working. But life in all it's rambunctiousness does not stop just because you are slipping. The game doesn't stop because the player needs a breather. You either get subbed out or keep running. This past weekend I got abandoned in the middle of a city in Korea hours away from home. I woke up with a concussion, scrapes on my body, face, and a missing phone. I was left to my own devices in a foreign land by people who knew the condition I was in and left me. But even that, and everything else, is okay because I'm capable. I'm no stranger to improvisation or finding my way. I got myself home with the little money I had, the ruined clothes on my back and black smudges from asphalt still on my face. I'm short on money and sleep... but not mental strength... not appreciation for this life I've been given. Or appreciation for the achievements God has blessed me with.
I've made some enemies over the last week or so. Sometimes the nicest thing you can do for somebody is be an absolute monster and let them feast on a lie so that they walk away from you with no looking back. And sometimes there is no true relief for the things that are said, true or not. It is not my job to make people think I'm not a piece of "scum", "trash", "an asshole", a "liar", or anything else. It is not my job to convince everybody that I am who I am, or that I'm not who I'm not. Though I can't say that's always easy to ignore. Sometimes when you play something over in your head enough times, it starts to take pieces of the truth and switch them with the lies. And those lies, backed by the roar and jeers of those who'd wish to see you fall, can become heavy. It can be frustrating knowing that their minds games are working. But life in all it's rambunctiousness does not stop just because you are slipping. The game doesn't stop because the player needs a breather. You either get subbed out or keep running. This past weekend I got abandoned in the middle of a city in Korea hours away from home. I woke up with a concussion, scrapes on my body, face, and a missing phone. I was left to my own devices in a foreign land by people who knew the condition I was in and left me. But even that, and everything else, is okay because I'm capable. I'm no stranger to improvisation or finding my way. I got myself home with the little money I had, the ruined clothes on my back and black smudges from asphalt still on my face. I'm short on money and sleep... but not mental strength... not appreciation for this life I've been given. Or appreciation for the achievements God has blessed me with.
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