𝙼𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝙱𝚞𝚜𝚊𝚗 | PJM. JJK✔

the beach

14th February, 2020

My alarm goes off.

It's a horrible piercing sound that travels straight through the brain like an ice pick, and leaves you wondering what sick soul decided that a day should start off with maximized discomfort.

I flinch upright on my bed, jolt into reality like getting thrown into a lake, and immediately tell myself I should get that bloody siren changed to something more calm and refined.

Something like ocean waves... harp music... or that one song, 'If You' by BigBang...

I grab to my forehead and massage my temples. BigBang? I ask myself with furrowed brows. I don't even listen to BigBang... what's a thirty-four year old doing listening to k-pop?

I yank the warm covers away from my stiff body and take a moment to look around my room, still rubbing the sleep from my tired eyes. There's a bandaid on my right upper-arm, but I ignore it. I must've scratched myself I think. I must've fallen back into my old drinking-habits last night and acted a fool.

My apartment smells like dirty clothes and resembles a junkyard-sale. I would do something about the musty odor, but it isn't like anyone has ever stuck around long enough to care about my mess.

I kick aside random trinkets and important documents as I amble toward my clothes.

I reluctantly dress myself, throwing on an unironed shirt, stained jeans, and a thick beanie, before faltering into the kitchen for a cup of black coffee. I grab my bagpack, and then finally, I am ready to leave my safe shelter.

I leave my apartment building, and when I open the door, it feels as though the cold winter weather of February slaps every inch of my body bare. It is the sort of cold that can freeze the blood of those who don't take sufficient care to be warm in heart and core, and I am one of the unlucky ones.

I push through the icy wind, until I enter the Seoul Metropolian, and breathe into my hands to restore the life in my numb fingers.

I'm supposed to be at work at seven. At my wonderful job as a sales associate, which I most definetly do not hate with every fiber of my being,

As I look around at the handful of people waiting in line on the platform, hiding my face in a far too over-sized winter coat, I remember today's date.

It's Valentine's day.

A day invented by some some sick fucker who wanted to make the world feel miserable for 24-hours.

I bury myself deeper in my coat, and even though every person around me is hiding their face in their coat as well, I notice that they all look sad.

I decide to change my schedule on a whim, and trust the faint feeling in my heart that tells me I'm not supposed to be at work today.

I turn around and hurry down the stairs of the platform, until I'm running through the trainstation and making my way to the first floor, where a KTX to Busan awaits me on the tracks.

I squeeze myself past the doors when they are already sliding shut, and catch my breath as I rest my palms on my knees.

I am not an impulsive person.

I usually never do unexpected things like this, but instead of miraculously learning how to swim after getting thrown into that lake this morning, it felt like I was falling to the bottom of the waterhole, unable to breathe nor float.

I suppose then, that this is a survival reflex.

I probably did need a break.

I watch the train drift further along the platform until it is running away from my daily life at a speed that feels. comfortable.