Overextended grimy fingernails. I wake up. What day is it? I role over habitually grab my dick; i got a semi. Ask myself to wake, or not to wake. Tuesday. Overcast, like a today should be. Heartbeat reverberating in my temple, lifting myself from my death. Looking around I see my one room, Korean status room; gas burner in corner, crusted with overnight ramen packages, powder, noodles, gas nozzle left unclamped; shoes amuck, books and class printouts my carpet. Wine bottles, Stout, Grolsch and other beer bottles here and there but you shan’t call me no drunk. Chinky eyes, no racist, I think, “오늘은 나 뭐 할 거야?” and step the fuck out of bed.
Turn it on and start the bobbin of the head, put the glasses on, “turn it on Kweli,” up and then contacts poking my eyes out, or in? Grab my trampled toothbrush, not straightedge brush, lay the gel on and weed whack back and forth, but not enough for the dental hygienist; gotta floss, however, no ambition. Strip and grab the mini-size towel, place it on the knob in front of the shower door. Do the shower then hop out a shivering, it’s december, pre-christmas, sub zero, centigrade, no family just myself and dry the fuck off. Four hours sleep, slept in too much and stressing about it, but at the same time confident as fuck. The diary of an ambitious low self-esteem arrogant fuck.
Smith’s Wealth of Nation’s, 孟子, Rousseau’s Social Contract and Thoreau’s Walden stacked next to me. A few texts related to the study of traditional Chinese characters in Korean, modern Chinese and sixth level Korean fill out my winter semester curriculum. “이거 다 공부할 수 있겠냐? 그야 프라스(+) 공자의 《論語》그리고 다음 학기의 배울 이재훈 교수님이 맡으실 ‘고전독해연습’ 수업의 교재를 안 공부해서는 안 되겠다”라는 생각이 머리속에 떠올렸다. What am I? The future.
