it feels like little bits of skyland, penetrating my skin...

It has been four months since I've come to Korea, and everything still feels surreal. Sometimes, when I remember where I am and what I'm doing, I find myself wanting to pinch my skin and wake up. How did I get here? What am I doing, halfway across the world? I thought that by coming, it'd help me realize something amazing about myself. I felt I had a purpose; leaving behind everything I knew. I always wanted to start over, and this was my in. But, is that my purpose? My higher calling? Did I come to Korea because I wanted to leave all of those familiar faces and places? If that's the case, then why do I miss all of it so much?

It's spring here, now. On one hand, it makes me miss home even more. On the other, it makes me love Korea more than I have in my short four months. I remember why, when I came to visit my friends in September, I fell in love with it. I see now that my purpose is not to have a purpose at all. That just being here and doing this is reason enough for me to have come. Yes, it's fucking my skin up to no end. Yes, my friends and family are a fifteen hour (at least) plane ride away. Yes, I am surrounded by people who don't know me and (for the most part) can't understand me when I speak. I'm also pretty sure that's what I've always wanted, to be a part of the masses. So, why reflect on the negatives? Why wallow away and feel sorry for all of the things I've missed at home? When I count all that I've done here, which isn't much, what I really see is all of the things I WOULDN'T be doing if I was still living at home. That makes me happy. And proud. And excited. In the end, if we don't have any of our experiences than what is the purpose in living in the first place?