Running

"A year alone can fool any mind, into thinking there ain't much to rewind."

My thoughts exactly. Most days here pass by me like spindles of a pinwheel, going round and round with the same activities, same friends, same life. But when the rarity of getting a whole day to myself arises, and I finally have the hours to pass on my own watch, I'm off-set, nearly nervous. I don't know what to do with my time. I think there must be some great activity I can accomplish, some Mona Lisa in need of painting, or some child in need of saving. I want to DO something but find myself suffocated for work or even play. I find myself starving for life.

In that suffocation, one could go crazy. Or shall I say one does go crazy, as that's where I feel I'm finally at because I'm paranoid as I walk down the street. I know what will happen, I know how many looks I'll receive just because I'm 'different', a 'foreigner'. I'm also scantily dressed for Korea, not America, but Korea in general. I'm wearing a tank-top with a short-sleeved sweater over it, rather short shorts and doll-like shoes with little embroidered flowers on them. I'm comfortable for the eighties high day that awaits me. I know I'll get stares of course, but then that spiteful, crazy voice inside my head says "NO! You have every right to dress the way you want, when you want, and most certainly on YOUR day off with high temps!" One last look in the mirror before I leave my self-centered island of an apartment and I'm off, out to turn some heads but trying my best to be apathetic towards it because I'm going to DO something today, not just hide in my shelter and watch a beautiful day pass me by.

It's paranoia I think as I walk down the street. I feel stares, I see old men and women stop what their doing as I walk by, hear conversations halt just to ogle me. It's then that I wish I could melt into the moss colored paint peeling of a building next to me and disappear, fade into black like Metallica always ominously sings in my ear. I just want to be where I'm normal!

It's not everyday that I feel this isolated. Most days I have school to think about, French to study, a novel to throw myself into, friends to meet in Seoul. I have a life, I swear. It's just on days like today, when the weather is beautiful and I have hours to squander that I wish for freedom, liberation from my worries of stares and thoughts of others. I long for America then. I admit it, I wish I was in the land of equality and freedom even if it's tainted with greed and sex driven sociopaths. At least there no one checks to see if I can speak the language, or comes up to me to ask about my religion (okay they do, but they're much easier to tell off than these Korean zealots!), no one stares unabashed as I walk in a store, and no one comes up to me asking for lessons in English (a quirk here that I understand, yet abhor because it's like a hard slap of a reminder that I'm different.) All these things and more dissipate as I cross into America (or even American army bases). The level at which my appearance matters goes down from 99% to 20% in importance. I can then stretch out on a lawn chair on a hot afternoon in just my tank and shorts. I can walk down the street without fear of being accosted by some rando wanting something from me, if even it's just a 'Hello'. I can be among people and pretend I'm at home amongst strangers; probably the greatest thing I miss. Pretty much, I can be me and not be self conscious about being so.

I'm certain that's why I'm now so into running. Just like I was in college and for similar reasons as well: asserting my individuality, proving I can kick ass, and finding peace amongst chaos; just a few on the list of reasons I've picked it up again here and can't seem to stop. It's a good thing for my body especially, which had wasted away on a winter of cabin fever and Korean style Ho-hos. The in-shape side affect is nice, and gives me a boost of confidence to leave my apartment/island. But running, the activity itself, is starting to act as my saving grace here. The sheer enjoyment I get out of it is so magnificent that I sometimes think I should just be like that legendary girl in college who ran everywhere, in just plain clothes, with books and backpack in tow, and with the longest hair I've ever seen bouncing to and fro on her buttocks as she surpassed all onlookers without care. My God I laughed when I finally saw the girl everyone gossiped about. It was so funny to see. Her and that hair- a perfectly constructed unit and now legend of my college years. I laughed but now I cry. I want to be like that girl here I think. I understand her now. It's so liberating to fly everywhere, past everyone and their judgments and eyes.

When I'm running no one comes up to me for English lessons, no one accosts me about religion. If they stare, I tell myself they're staring in awe at how fast that foreigner girl is. If I catch them staring I run faster, stronger; it becomes a matter of pride in myself and my foreign status that makes me push for the stars and beyond. No one can stop me. I am free but also of an island, one that is outside my small apartment yet which still serves as a home for my thoughts and self and safety from all else. Korea fades into the badly painted buildings and stair wells and not just my Metallica me. I become the queen of the road or pathway I'm cruising upon. I find my voice in my head and she's powerful now, unstoppable. She starts to chant a mantra and I start to run to its beat. She says, "Move out of the way because I'm not afraid of your stares today, I'm not paranoid. I'm ready for anything because I'm running, because I'm free, because I'm me and I'm home!" If this girl had a name it would be just like the movie, Kick Ass!