They play uncensored hip-hop between classes at my elementary school for English immersion. 2 Chainz announces that he has “sold out arenas/you can suck my penis” and the Korean kids are starting to rap along. That’s all they can say in English. They sure as hell can’t tell me their names. A new teacher just arrived. Says the students here are the worst she’s seen in ten years of teaching; how have I handled it. Well it’s been pretty hard, and the Confucian labor laws just compound everything. The Korean public school system produces the Navy SEALs of educators. I’m so good at my job now that I could teach chimps how to assemble rockets. Any worthwhile/employable skill, you gotta go through shit to attain it.
Now that I have that it’s time to go. Two years here, and I know I PMSed about the state of things here a lot but don’t listen to me — my time was actually good. Pleasant really, because I wasn’t back in America temping. Not being in America is like not being on fire. A nice persistent buzz. I got paid a little bit, had time enough to write a book, learn guitar. And to get in shape and get good enough with girls to stop dating
the ugly ones the wrong ones. Everything I did here took sustained effort but it was all external and won’t last. It was just flashy shit. I’m still the same guy after all of it. So now what. Now I’m faced with the annoying prospect of looking inward and appraising my list of character defects. What a hassle; this is going to take the rest of my life. I’m not going to start tonight. Tonight is for drinking, and trying to keep the nostalgia from reaching toxic levels.