They's way too much going on in the world. It's too much crazy stuff that I am totally unable to wrap my head around. So many people are so content to just hate and do terrible things to each other. How exactly does people get to that point that they think that they are doing good by hurting people? I have a friend that was raised in a 'Christian' home, yet her father won't talk to her sister because she got her a tattoo. I'm pretty sure that the only reason she done that is to prove that she ain't under the father's authority. Of course, this girl is ever bit of 25 years old and ain't lived at home in years. Then again, a Muslim guy told me that it is okay for him to kill me because I do not respect the teachings of his 'prophet'. How do you hate like that? This is blind hate and the other hates way too much for more personal reasons. Why the hate?
They ain't too many people that goes to my church here in Incheon. It might be 60 tops. I remember when I first came people were not too close. They never wanted to spend time together and didn't give a rip if they seen each other at church. You can forget thinking about seeing each other outside of church. We've growed much closer, yet there is still some sort of uneasy feeling among some of them. I can't place it, but it is there. At least there is not so much desire to run out of the door after the service. There's way too much work that needs done in Korea. Too much bad stuff in your face all of the time and too much bowing to show how kind they are. It is a crazy mix here. Too much kindness and too much sickness.
I've had way too much fun here and way too many blessings. I miss things, but it's too much going on here that is good for me. I keep wondering why I have been sent here to work and live this random life. I suppose most lives are random, but not like this. I have a job where I sit way too much and teach way too little and get paid too much to do mostly nothing. I am a puppet. Why am I a puppet? I am the token white guy. I don't mind because it is okay. I knowed it before I came. It's okay. It's just way too much to process. My friends here are way too kind. They somehow know exactly what I am thinking all of the time. Sometimes they know way too much. I hope that the guy that told me that it was okay to kill me knows way too much about how I don't want him to die. Wow.. I wrote way too much about way too many random things. I guess that means that I am random. Who knows?