Today, I was repulsed by human behavior. Before such sweeping subsuming on my behalf, however, I should probably prelude with some ludicrous account of reality that plays coaxingly into my broad, philosophical nihilism (note the contradiction, that ugly, glazed-over oxymoron).
Partly beholden to the amount of sleep-inducing medication I took on the flight returning from Seoul, my reentry into the United States came and ended with a bang -- completely beyond the realms of calculation, you know, vagarious and all that impromptu jazz. This swirling return was only aggrandized by the potent discontent that I was nurturing towards Korean society. This comprehensive disenchantment led me to finally estrange myself from a society that I so hungrily and voraciously wanted to become a part of during my youth. From there, I conducted a wholesome disassembly of my identity, a destructive cavalcade led inward, bursting open intricate twists of balloon shapes that once functioned as anchors towards a cookie-cut-out identification of being, "Korean," or a "Korean-American." These are literally meaningless. Once I deracinated uncomfortable constituents, I found that my personality and psyche represented a Minesweeper board ravaged by a skilled player: large amounts of gaping emptiness, flags to suggest delicate emotional ground, and considerably small bits of content.
The prospect of being this empty, scarecrow of a human being was frightfully gelid -- fucking petrified me in fear. It was a vile concoction of regret and apprehension, where I wanted to retreat into somewhere subdued and isolated so that I could contemplate my identity and existence before returning to a world full of lights and distractions.
Having arrived just two days ago, I was hit with a jet lag so efficiently vicious that it's consumed me entirely. I'm overwhelmed by waves of exhaustion, but I end up sleeping about three hours at the most. So I flew back into New York with 20 hours of medicated sleep, but upon arriving, I can't sleep at all. Without sleep, I'm sure we're all aware, one becomes more sensitive to insensitivity, more susceptible towards angered outbreak and frustrated collapse. Since my mother moved to Seoul, I'm basically without a place to stay. I've taken residence in a Korean boarding house that straddles the border of New Jersey and New York, requiring me to take a bus into the city. This bus takes me from this boarding house into Port Authority, which, I'm afraid to say, is not such a majestic place. The employees at the ticket counters and the information booths remind me of this quest for personal wealth that have consumed a majority of this population entirely. They've forgotten any sense of social amity, any sort of decorum that they forget how to respect human beings for, well, human beings. This intrinsic decay of society is growing from the bottom-up.
I was fortunate enough to be employed as a photographer at a rather famous restaurant in Central Park. I spoke with one of the other photographers, and this woman worked two jobs and was so fazed by the acquisition of wealth that she always resonated with a sort of bitter weariness. In one hour of the day, she approached me to chat, which, in actuality, became a quick lapse of complaining about the other employees. Unable to shrug off this behavior any longer, I went off on this long fusillade about Marxian morality and how the loss of self can have devastating effects. Then, with a post-modern swish of her hair, she walked away without even considering what I had said.
Entering the workforce at this level has depressed me and only vitalized my doubt toward society ergo myself. I do not want to become like these gray members, and though it is egocentric of me to dismiss them into such circumstance, their behavior, I felt, must mean something in the terms of their personality and character. I crave real character, a personality that I can truly dig into and find a wealth that is actually important. Upon returning to the United States, I feel that the distance between every individual has prevented us engaging in what should be known to be the most beautiful aspect of being human: our limitless prospects through interaction. I desire, rapturously, to interact with someone at such an intensity that I can be inundated by this person's history, character, and wishes. I want to believe in holistic individuals, and be amazed by their talent and mentality. I want to be reminded, in a way most jolting, that every single person that I see pass by on the street is someone who is most extravagantly whole and infinite. I do not want to recede into the mild sleep of apathy and though, like all people, I am lined by abysmal failures, I shall not regress into becoming the abyss itself. I cannot shed my faith for humanity, for I know that the moment I do, I no longer live but wait to die.
