I stood in the middle of a darkened road that pointed in two obscured visions.

Venturing down one end, my eyes became hypnotized into a trance by the lines of lanterns on either side of me.

I was comforted and haunted by their presence, as they both lit the dark world around me, and illuminated my unaccompanied existence.

As I progressed, I began regressing into a child. My steps slowed, and my blind pursuit settled into a lackadaisical dream.

It was then I felt a sudden surge of heat from behind, and becoming frightened I looked back to discover silent, bright flares in the distance. Fear immediately took hold of me and I cowered on the black, dry concrete below my feet.

There were no words, and my mind held fast to nothing save a single terrifying emotion.

And then I remembered.

I think I was here before, a long, long time ago. It wasn't hell, but it was the one place in this life I had been so tormented by that I had resolved since then to strike the very memory of its existence from my conscious memory.

I had a name for this place.

It was my self-designated 'shopping month'. Twice a year, once in the summer and once in the winter. I have no idea why I picked those two seasons instead of spring and autumn. Anyway, it's not like I needed much. If anything, I really should be looking into donating to charities. See, I have have a whole crapload of clothes—in virtually new condition—that I barely ever wear.

Naturally, most of that amount of unused clothing was given by someone, which is the main reason why I struggle with feeling like a jerk for just haphazardly giving it away. I haven't had the heart to ask my brothers to stop sending me a t-shirt every time they travel somewhere. It's awesome that they think of me, but they need to vary it up a bit. Not to mention I feel like a jackass wearing a shirt with the name of a location imprinted on it that I, myself, haven't been to yet.

“Sweet, you've been to Cancun????”

“Uhhh...”

“Dude, chicks must be smokin' down there!”

“Uhhh...okay.”

“So like, Cancun, that's in like, Brazil or something, right?”

“For the sake of this conversation, it may as well be.”

WHO.A.U was my officially designated American Eagle substitute here in Korea. Yeah, you could easily find AE knock-offs anywhere here, but it isn't the same as that “crisp” feel of walking out of the store with that “brand new AND authentic” aroma emanating out of your logo-plastered shopping bag.

Shopping has been widely spoken of as “therapeutic” among mainly female circles, but I totally get it. Perhaps it's that metrosexual thing, I don't know. But it's nice to treat yourself out, and it's just as nice to get something that represents you, and makes you feel positive about yourself when you wear it.

I gave up the generic baggy jeans + t-shirt combo after my 3^rd year in uni. I just felt too much like a slob, not to mention I went to school in a part of the city where people's version of “casual” is what other people would consider at least “medium-formal”. For Christ's sake, just going out for a simple dinner in Chinatown was an event in and of itself.

Just then I had a huge craving for dumplings.

Shopping bag in hand, I made my way across the street past the Woosung Apts stop to this conveniently located dumpling place across the road. If it's Asian cuisine, you'll never have a problem finding what you want in this city.

On the way I bump into a couple of girls with linked arms. They giggled, smiled briefly at me, and kept moving before I could even think to say “excuse me”. Hm, that's unusual. Usually people just ignore me like they bumped into a sidewalk rail or some other arbitrary inanimate object.

I entered the shop, and placed my order to go. As I took a seat, I could hear the dual tone melody of my mobile going off from inside my coat pocket. Yeah, this time I actually decided to wear a REAL friggin' winter coat before leaving the house.

Did you have diner? I had just it so 커피를 마시고 싶어요.^^ I think you are so often miss a meal, arnt you? I hope you have a mealtime regularly (=꼭박꼭박) for your healthy ^^ ******, 좋은밤 되세요. (=have a good night)

I suppose that 8-piece dumpling set I just ordered counts as 'dinner'. But she was right, I skipped out on meals a lot. I tell her too much sometimes. I mean, most people wouldn't give two shits if I like, ate twice a week, but she takes things like that as though it were the biggest deal ever.

I talked to an American girl once, and it just sort of slipped out in mid-conversation when we were discussing diets. She looks at me—quickly glances down my body and back up again—and says in the most earnest tone,

“Lucky!!!!!!!!!”

Yeah. And when I told the same thing the other day to the girl who just texted me, she immediately starts freaking out, asking me about 30 times if I'm okay, and that we needed to get to a restaurant right now and order a huge serving of bibimbap or something. It was hilarious, but it was nice to have someone act genuinely concerned like that, even for just a small thing.

The anxious look on her face was so damned cute.

It was all of a sudden that something switched around inside me, and perhaps equally as sudden as my previously manifested craving for dumplings, I suddenly just wanted to not be alone and by myself at that moment.

Stepping out the shop, I pulled up the address directory on my mobile as I slowly made my way back up to Gangnam station.

No, he's busy. No, nope, nope, she's busy...mm-mm, no, he's going out with some chick tonight...she's nice but all she does is complain about shit all the time...nope, not him either...

Shit, I have at least 40 names on my phone and there isn't even one in that list with whom I either could or wanted to hang out with. Fucking bullshit. I don't even know how I got some of these people's contact info. Exchanging mobile numbers is about as common as a handshake, so I guess it's pretty typical. But still, looking at all those names, I felt like what someone stranded in a raft at sea feels knowing that he is surrounded by an incomprehensibly large fucking amount of water but isn't able to drink a single drop of it.

Perhaps it's all of little consequence anyway. I haven't had a DVD night in a while. I could do that, or maybe read. But reading is all I did yesterday. I never thought the day would come, but at that moment I kind of wished the weekend would hurry up and end.

I need to get myself together.

How could you ever say 'no' to a face like that?

One time I was alone in the house on a cold winter afternoon, lying on my bed for plain lack of anything better to do that required a medium level of motivation. Five minutes into admiring the air molecules floating above my head, I hear the small pitter-patter of tiny paws from outside the open door to my room, and there she is heading straight for me.

She's so small and clumsy that she couldn't hop onto the bed for the life of her, but I spare her the effort I know she would have put in anyway and lean over the side of the bed to scoop up the little furball.

As soon as she's up on the bed, she without hesitation climbs up on my stomach, does a half-assed semi-circle, then promptly plops down on the same spot, the expression on her face being the effervescent epitome of innocent, unalloyed contentment. Kills me every time.

Without a need for words, it was a mutual feeling of contentment. Leave it to a scruffy little fluff-ball to remind me how unforgettable the simple things are.