I'm working hard on final projects at the Warehouse at my school.
In the wee hours of the morning (or late hours of the night) I've found that my thoughts seems to be incredibly jumbled, so much in fact, that they make sense... And that is pretty crazy. Specifically my thoughts about adoption seem to quiet and submit to realism and rationality. Instead of feel robbed, empty, and lost, I am overcome with this strange and warm feeling that everything is going to be okay, that even though I may hurt and I may suffer it will all be worth while. Maybe I'm just a dreamer...?
I have to believe that the hand I've been dealt was given fairly and justly. I have to believe that the powers that be chose me to bear this burden of adoption because I am strong-willed, stable, and secure. Yes, this is romanticized and yes, this may not be true. But that is where my mind is at now. There has to be a reason why it was me and not another.
I find myself going back to Korea in my mind when I have the rare hour or so for myself. I don't think this is bad, it might be healthy, right? I miss Korea. I miss feeling like the reason why I don't belong isn't about my looks but rather the unseen things that make me Peter. I miss the cheap food and booze. I even miss the subway system, complex in its mapping, but simple when riding safely inside. My mind likes to walk through my memories of Korea, still smelling of that new memory smell :) And every so often I just want to drop everything and go back, even for just a day, an hour, a minute. If I could just step a foot back on the floor of the Incheon Airport, I'd be content for a few months. I can't do that though....because I lack the funds and sense of adventure. Instead I try to relive Korea through the people I met there.
January cannot come fast enough. As the date approaches with every passing day, I grow restless and anxious. The First Trip Home reunion will be something great, I think. There is a spirit and unspoken understanding with those people; I get you, you get me, and that's something we will have forever. I trust them, hell I trusted most of my friends from the trip an hour into meeting them! Because while their personal story differs from mine, it still has strong common themes, like chapters in a novel; so we're all connected. When I think about this I smile, which is good considering I'm running on little sleep...
As you might have guessed, this post was written in place of me finishing my illustration final.....