You're Not Great Because Your Goal is Sucky People

On a day like today all one can do is blog. I've spend time in my room; my lonely, wood-floored, haven from blistering winds, beautiful Korean women, and the outside world. When I'm in my room all I do is think. I'm a thinking time bomb. I'm currently mercifulness plowing through Andre Agassi's autobiography thinking of my autobiography; sad that no one will ever write a biography about me. Out of all the possible things in the world, someone writing a biography of your life has to be the third most humbling experiences.

Jeremy Current has a song he wrote after his girlfriend was murdered titled Violet Boutique. The line that sticks in my brain, makes my gut grimace, and soul yearn: "I knew someday you'd dry up but  I can't stop pouring water in your cup."

I feel as if my girlfriend has been murdered and I haven't had a girlfriend in six years. The second most humbling experience has to be someone saying they'll marry you and staying with you for life.

I can't stop pouring water in your cup.

Agony, a feeling I have no right to sympathize with. Agony, an emotion that comes daily to my calcium non-deficient bones. I'm in agony for wisdom. I'm in agony for love.  I'm in agony for understanding...and I don't understand. I'm not trying to understand the deeper meanings of life, having graduated from that thinking long ago, but rather the trivial things of life.  Once one thinks for hours on end all one can do is think some more. Andre's dad hates thinking because he says that it keeps people from doing.

Maybe I'm not a doer, I think to myself, running through the small list of accomplishments in my life.  Some worth noting, some personal gold medals snatched out of the hands of millions of other competitors. But my accomplishments are like snotty loogies spit in my face as I look at my future.  Ones accomplishments are only as good as who you're comparing yourself to. I am currently comparing myself to Andre. Once number one in the world.

I change the song. Tired of wanting to cry. Not tears of sadness but tears of agony. What's the agony. I don't know.

"So why did you come to Korea?" She asks me as we stand waiting on separate taxis. She a Korean trying to understand me and gauging me with other Americans she's met; the ones that hang out in Itaewon. I'm an American trying to gauge myself. Wonderfully beautiful and unbearingly attractive I tell her I don't know.

I don't know. I don't know. I feel like I could repeat this a million times to anyone who asks me any questions about anything.  I said something about culture or some other bullshit that I didn't know why I was saying. I pride myself in my ability to think fast. I can't think that fast...we were waiting on taxis and taxis in Seoul are like ignorant people in America. She ignored a couple free taxis and let them pass much like I ignore ignorant Americans and let them pass.

I rest on Solomons wisdom in my daily agony:
Enjoy life with your wife, whom you love, all the days of this meaningless life that God has given you under the sun--all your meaningless days. For this is your lot in life and in your toilsome labor under the sun.

 The main reason I can't enjoy life is that I don't have a wife whom to love all the days of this meaningless life.

I agree with Jesus in my glorious loneliness:
For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will save it.

What's next. I don't know. All I know is I want to be great and I want to do this with my wife. This looks different for a believer but I still can't understand why. love. war.

Things to think about:
-not thinking