entering first awakening

March 24

A few patterings of kids run past my apartment building. I stare at the back of my W15000 alarm clock. The neon lights of Korean bbqs, mini-marts and buffets are out. A car goes down teh alley every now and then with a loud speaker and a man shouting something in Korean over and over again; it begins to sound like a song; it begins to sound militaristic; it begins to sound like a song. The walls are paper and papery thin; I can hear everything; I can staple posters directly into the walls they are so thin. Yet it is warm and comfortable; I am taken care of here. I think it rained earlier before I forced my mind to to sleep on into the noon-o'-clock hour. I am still jetlagged and need to turn my internal clock around. Still in defense-mode, my body and mind take turns being in mild shock, although I can never really feel the caliber of this shock; a defense to my defense. Perhaps my shock isn't panic-stricken shock though, perhaps I am getting more comfortable with myself, with the uncertain--with what I can bring myself to do and be challenged by, and what I cannot do at the present moment. I will consider walking to Lake Park today--how far is it again? I will buy more water, rice and vegetables, or rather, I will buy bi-bim-bap-- sa k'sayo and trot on home. I have much to read and type up for my job on Monday. I have the means to feel unalone, legs to walk it through, fingers to dial numbers and type letters and write letters. This time could be a reminder for me to look at communication again in all its new forms--its abundance-- here, I learn to hold my breath under water and still manage to breathe.