The things in this story happened to me as I was beginning to come to terms with the fact that I lived in another country. It was an understanding that was great, but saddening at the same time. The kindness of many random Korean people was the great part. If you enjoy this story please use the social media tools below. Thanks.
Throughout most of my life I’ve kept a relatively pessimistic perspective on things. A glance at my childhood pictures show cold stares sprinkled with regret. There was never a specific reason, and though I abhor the idea of blaming it on “my nature” (whatever that is), happiness was, and is, a elusive thing to me. The things I desired didn’t desire to be around me, so I grew up always expecting very little out of the life that I counted everyday of.
Moving to South Korea was an extension of that phenomenon. I wanted to be in the publishing industry just as mergers were allowing companies to fire their staff, and print media in general was walking the path worn out years ago by the Tasmanian tiger, the Bermuda Ern, and the eight track tape. During my internship as Farrar Straus and Giroux an assistant editor talked to me:
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