It's inevitable. The poetry and prose can only shield me from vulnerability for so long.
Someone is bound to read through the poorly written literary devices and figure out the true meaning of all my works that I run away from by writing it (How presumptuous). Or no one cares.
The latter is the greater possibility. I find comfort in it, no one cares. And on some days, it's despair in how no one cares.
True to my character, I am going to switch the topic to another one. For today, I wish to reminisce on Korea Day and as much as I would love to say it started with me speaking Korean and having a wonderful day. It didn't.
I sat on my glasses.
Having a power of -6 and allegedly even more, I can't move around without my glasses as there is a possibility I will fall into a ditch, the depth perception does lessen when you can't perceive objects, it turns out.
It was frustrating, the whole sitting on glasses debacle. I had never done it before. Out of character as I would at least pat down the surface before I would sit on it. However, today, I overslept and was out of it.
I took my spare glasses that apparently sent out a signal that I might go to hogwarts according to my friend. The same friend that had invited me to Korea Day which I was getting ready for.
Nursing a slight headache from the power change to the new glasses, I set out for Anderson Hall, the venue for Korea Day.
Accidentally glaring at people who didn't deserve it as I was squinting to figure out who they were, I frustratingly reached my destination. I quickly found my friends who were gleeful as they should be at Korea Day. I sought to rot in misery the first hour of the event.
Grumbling at the amazing choreography put forward by the students while also videotaping my friend's excitement at it, I wanted to not be there at all. It was a great event, lovely, amazing in fact. I didn't want to feel any of that though, I thought as I slowly booked an appointment at a spectacles repair shop.
The joy and the happiness was irritating, this gleeful energy was everything I wasn't. It isn't a logical thing, wanting everyone in the world to cry over my bent glasses. I understood that so I tried to be happy.
Turns out, if it were that easy, unhappy people would simply choose that option. So, I didn't force it. I just listened and immediately loved the song played. I noted it down onto my keepnotes app. Then another song came on, I liked it too.
Maybe Korean songs were what I needed at this moment. The annoying gleefulness turned into relatability over how amazing the atmosphere was. With each beat, another perfect body roll move by five to eight people on stage.
The flashing lights, from red to blue. The joyous and infectious smiles of the dancers. I fell into all of it before I realized I was supposed to rot in my misery. However, I accepted this as an arc in my episode of today.
As my friend open mouthed laughed at the hilarious morally themed fart story skit, I too couldn't stop laughing as I looked into her eyes. When she kept making the turum turum sound so seriously every few seconds, I couldn't stop the laughter. It truly was spilling out of me, this joy.
The joint booing at the male second lead of another skit along with the whistling at the successful love story in it, I too found myself doing the same.
Doing the same, when I was in queue for Korean food. Doing the same, when I exclaimed in relief biting into the crunchy fresh well seasoned cucumber in the Oi Kimchi.
Doing the same, when I chewed the lovely tteokchokki.
I couldn't deny it any longer. I found that happiness was coming and I couldn't escape it.
Somehow, the joy too was inevitable in that moment.
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