From a wormhole-in-the-wall

That picture can tell you something of my life now. I live in Yongin-si, in the province of Gyegonggi-do, South Korea. And though I will be moving soon, either to Seoul or to Bundang, Korea will remain my home for a while longer. Yes, I am quite amazed to be here; that I live here amazes me still. I cannot think of another place I'd rather be.

Some time nearly a year ago, I was sitting in the Tax & Treasury department of Publix Supermarkets, trough-ing my way through a monotonous pile of illegal -- at best suspicious -- wire transfers. At my back there was a mountainous pile of storage boxes, stacked in piles of 8 and stretching for 15 feet. There was a big cart around the corner, too, waiting for me to finish so the boxes could be returned to their place in the warehouse, which was just a short walk beyond the steel door at the end of the hall.

I saw out that door a few times, though I never ventured through it. The light emanating from the place beyond was orange, the glow of a thousand 1000-watt bulbs hanging from the vaulted ceilings of the aluminum-walled belly that housed everything that might pass through a Publix store.

And the days would never have been tolerable if they hadn't left me alone. They did, and they let me listen to music or whatever the hell I wished. That was how I managed to last in that job. I spent most of my days there listening again and again to comedy albums and On Avery Island (which I had just discovered).

Everyone in that tedious office was twice my age, half of them bald(ing) -- those with hair looked like it hadn't changed since the 80s -- and wearing loose-fitting sweatshirts with stains that had been faded by years of washing. Their smiles were like plasticine. I don't mean to sound bitter, or like I am criticizing these people. Most of them were nice, and they were friendly to an extent. It's just that I felt like a kid out of Neverland, and might as well have been playing jacks with my marbles. Even now I still wonder whether I was the anachronism, or they were.

This entry doesn't seem to have a purpose. I don't know what compelled me to write it. Perhaps it is because this Valentine's Day, I was briefly reflecting on what I would have been doing a year ago today. And I realize how much my life has changed during that year. The only constant is that I am still single. Ladies?