So similar, so different

So yesterday I went to my first movie since being in Korea. It was a Western film, Body of Lies. Generally a good movie. We were originally going to try and take it in at the CGV Imax at Yongsan station, but time constraints, the movie being sold out, and not showing on an Imax screen kind of cancelled that. Consequently, we simply bought tickets for a 9pm show in Ansan.

The theatre itself was pretty much identical to one in Canada. The lobby was carpeted, the colours of everything were dark save for highlights given by bright signs and advertisements. Ordering the tickets wasn't an issue, since the titles of English movies simply get Konglishised. All you need to do is add a few extra vowels strategically and many things can be ordered without confusion.

Watching the movie went by without incidence, but I couldn't help feel that things were a little off. Before the movie we bought snacks, but the selection was limited. Fountain pop was available in ridiculous sizes for surprisingly fair prices. No $5 drinks live there! Popcorn was also on sale as well as bags of dried squid bits. That was it for snacks. I actually felt cheated. I wanted something gummy or sweet. Something nostalgic, to remind me that I was at a movie. Normally, I don't think I would have yearned for that kind of comfort, but the decor of the lobby was identical in every way to a multi-plex back home.

Getting into the theatre, the hallway, stairs, and seats, basically identical. The first difference inside was that we had specific seats assigned to us. We had selected the seats when buying the tickets, which seemed strange at the time. Looking back, I wish we had a similar system back home. The second difference was a large block of empty space in front of the screen. Whereas back home we'd have rows of seating in this space, it seemed like this section, the space reserved for the late ticket buyer back home, was left devoid of seats. Now, I don't know if this is the case in each theatre, but it still seemed very strange.

The movie played, the Korean subtitles emitted a yellow glow, and the film played as any film should. Yet after it was over I couldn't help but feel strange...almost cheated; so similar but so different.

Long Road, the end of

I'm kind of going to speed through this one...Mainly because I've got another, far more interesting story.



Reaching the top of the steps I soon realised that I probably wasn't in the right area. But, in my ultimate goal of skipping the factory district on my way back I left like this road was my only option. The stairs had emptied me out onto a gravel shoulder of a vacant two lane highway. A lone white van blazed past me, driving into the tunnel. In the distance the the blinking bicycle quickly vanished behind a hill. It seemed like I would be stuck riding in the dirt until I came across another walkway. I pedaled along for a few minutes, several cars blazed pass. I felt nervous since I was essentially in all black and had only my rear reflector as a light. Then...to my surprise, I realised that there was a walkway on the other side of the highway. Relieved, I quickly ran human over to the pedestrian safe-haven and continued onward.

The area I had gotten myself into was essentially empty. Aside from a few scattered farms I drove by nothing that resembled a city. Definitely not like anything I had come to associate with Korea. Street-lights and fields, street-lights and fields. It seemed odd that there would be such a large and well kept walkway in such an empty area. With little in the way of housing for kilometres the walkway seemed like a waste of money...but, at least the country is pedestrian and bicycle friendly!

The remainder my ride through the country essentially acquainted me with the other reality of Korean society; the large divide between which exists between rich and poor. I'd heard from a friend that one of the biggest social stresses in Korea was the rapid growth of extreme poverty in contrast to the rise of affluence. Until this point, I'd never seen anything to indicate that the income divide was any different than back home. I'd seen a few beggars, some tenement style housing, and even a small slum within Seoul. But never anything to suggest that it was a widespread or serious thing. It's as if this other side of Korean life is hidden from those who don't actively look for it. Well, biking through the darkness of the country I found it. I started to come across sections of poorly put together shacks. Then every so often the rice paddies would give way to large block of shanties. Falling apart and dirty, these crude dwellings sat low to the ground. At times you could see apartment buildings in in the distance, supplying an odd contrast to how what was sitting in front of me.

I drove through the country for about 3 hours, taking winding roads which led to nowhere specific. At one point the countryside gave way to another of SiHeung's 'Urban Pods'. I quickly passed through it only to be welcomed by more countryside and more shanties. Despite the beauty of surroundings' simplicity, I couldn't help be troubled by how close together these different types of people lived.


Late into the night I finally found my way back to Ansan. Biking the final few hundred metres to my apartment building, the smells of the area were a mixture of strange and familiar. A little more bitter than the country but somehow more welcoming. I came slowly to the entrance of my apartment building and walked my bike inside. Entering the elevator I felt a tremendous sense of relief. It felt good to walk again. It felt good to be back from the middle of nowhere.

Looking back on this ride and the several I have gone on since, I'm no longer surprised by the income divide. Instead, I am shocked at how somebody could spend a year here and never come face to face with the density and frequency of these areas. True, you can always see cute little scenes of farmers in fields near any city. But it takes a little searching to find yourself deep in a large area of dilapidated single family dwellings which sits within a series of scrap metal yards. And it takes an accident to find out how welcoming, positive and loving the people in these areas can actually be.


Anyways...enough rambling here. I just needed to cap off that overdrawn story! I've got a few on the books. Maybe the 36 hour bike/walk trek will find it's way here.

Expected delay

A spontaneous bike trip is in the works here. I am leaving at 1am. We plan to bike all night and part of the day.

From here

to here




Wish me luck. For all those that want to give me a call along the way, I'm sure you could get my cell number from the usual channels.

McBulgogi Burger

A multi-lingual review:


: (


sad face


je suis triste


War es lecker? Nein, überhaupt nicht.




part 3 is coming after I cleanse my system of McDonalds and oversleeping...

Long Road, pt. 2

I guess a week between posts is too much...I've gotta start getting up an hour early and commit a little more time to this.

I've actually biked back to Daebudo twice since this entry was started. Once again at night and once during the day. I'll post some reflections on it after I finish this novel of a post series.

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So I get onto the causeway, the Sihwa Seawall. On my left is a wall and on my right side was a solid line of traffic leaving the island, I can see nothing of the sea. After about a kilometer, the wall breaks. On my left the view opens up, revealing the blackness of the sea, or on that side, 'Lake Sihwa'. The dim outline of a hill or mountain sat in the distance, shining in the water behind me were the lights of hundreds of factories and far ahead of me was the glow of neon from some Hotel. I looked back and to my right to see a neon mess of another part of Siheung. Ahead of me, across the sea, and on the right, was the lit silhouette of 3 tall buildings, which I now know is part of Incheon city.

The air was cool and my legs ached, I had finally reached the Sea. I was overjoyed. Positive emotions rushed through me and despite my better judgement, I started to sing. It was probably to keep my mind off of how tired I was, but it felt quite good to just let go. Especially after the stifling experience that was the factory district. Maybe if an hour ago I'd taken the turn which led to "Chemical Zone" I'd also be singing deliriously...but this experience was likely a little less despair ridden.

After a few kilometres of passing car after car, street light after street light, I slowly crept up to a roadside Oasis. The dull hum of a generator echoed from the street side as it powered a small food service truck thirty feet away. The vehicle was red and very similar to a Chip Truck from back home, except it said "Hot Food and Coffee" on the side rather than "Fries". People sat on plastic tables and chairs and ate Ramen, drank coffee, and pulled away at boiled eggs. I slalomed through the inconsequential blockade and kept on traveling the straight path to Daebudo. It was probably at this point that I noticed that there was barely any, if any, inbound traffic to the island. The people in the line of cars beside me delivered strange glances, perhaps on account of my pinkness but likely on account of there being little 'reason' to me travelling to the island at this hous. I was probably pedaling along to an empty patch of land. But, this thought didn't deter me. I had my goal and I kept on going.

The overall smell of the area was a beautiful contrast in comparison to what I'd gone through beforehand. It wasn't salty, as expected, just fresh...I could seldom hear water, but mostly my ride was dominated by the sound of the headwind which slowed me and the running car engines which choked my lungs. Regardless, it was beautiful on the causeway. Blackness on all sides with only the glow of lights in the distance to remind me of where I was.

Occasionally I'd see some green lights dancing in the air at the bottom of the embankment. When I came upon the second set of these lights I decided to stop and watch. Sitting far out into the water was a bouncing neon light. Dangling in the air, as if from a pole danced another. Then, in a familiar casting motion, the light flew into the water beside the other one. It was a marker used by people fishing. I watched for a while, hoping to see someone catch a fish, but, reminded myself that I needed to keep going. I got back on my seat and continued on.

In front of me, I kept focusing on a band of lights that outlined the edge of Daebudo. The closer they came the closer I was to the island. Despite using a marker to gauge my distance, the ride seemed to take forever. Few surprises occurred along the way, the only one being that I re-entered Ansan about 1/2 way across the bridge. It turns out that Ansan owns Daebudo, despite the fact that the road to it connects to Siheung. Anyways, after what seemed like an hour I reached Daebudo. The entrance to the island was a bridge which connected to the causeway. I biked along a short pathway that was barely thick enough for my bike. Being more tired than I should have been, I cautiously rode across. I didn't want to flip over the railing at this point and take a swim in the standing water below.

After crossing the bridge I was welcomed by a white statue of two cranes (or herons). I stopped to take a picture. Afterwards, I noticed that the streetlamps each had a glowing picture of a cartoon sea-creature, crabs, fish, and octopuses. I thought it was pretty cute, but it also confirmed for me that the area I was now in was much more people friendly than my earlier ride. Sitting on my bike, across from the statue, I was finally at another intersection. To the right was a dark area labeled 'pier' and to the left was a long road that led to the main part of the island. Unsure of this pier, I simply took the left turn.

I pedaled slowly up a curving hill, behind a truck selling fish, and onto another main walkway. The area quickly opened into a number of restaurants, a typical theme here in Korea. However, instead of the usual tall buildings filled with shops, this area only had a series of small one or two story buildings, each often housing only a single restaurant. In several parking lots men corralled the few cars that drove past into the corresponding parking lots, likely trying to secure more business. Being on the opposite side of the street, I was simply ignored. I continued along at a moderate pace for about 10 minutes. I passed a love motel, a restaurant shaped like a boat, and then very abruptly came to the end of civilisation. Like a line had been drawn across the road that said "no buildings after this point", the presence of roadside buildings simply stopped. Ahead of me and to the right were long roads with no street-lights. I had no light on my bike, I was fairly exhausted, and figured that I would probably need to turn back now if I had any hope of making it home. I stopped at the side of the road, sat on a marble pylon and quickly jotted down some notes. Feeling like I needed some additional rest, I laid down on the ground to take all of the weight off of my tired legs. For about 10 minutes I tried to recuperate as much strength as I could. However, having noticed a broken bottle beside my head, it was difficult to relax. After the 10 minutes, I stood up, got on my bike, and started the ride home.

When I reached the causeway this time, the wind was at my back. Pedaling was easier and my landmarks in the distance were now cities rather than a line of lights. With the conditions so much improved I left like I would have no problem getting home. Then, I started to feel extremely tired. After a few kilometers I had to stop. I put the kickstand of my bike down, pulled out a chocolate bar that I had bought on Daebudo, sat on the ground, and ate. I was too tired to continue. I just felt like I needed to sleep. So...being in Korea, I did something I've seen many people do here. Sleep wherever you are. Laying beside my bike, I closed my eyes and just relaxed for a good 15 minutes. Occasionally cars would speed by on the road beside me, but I was fairly well protected by a large steel railing. Once I was done I jumped onto my bike again...I felt recharged. For real this time.

Steeling my resolve, I pedaled quickly, reaching the other end of the causeway in about half the time it took me to reach Daebudo. At this point, I had biked about a quarter of the distance I needed to cover to get back. As I pedaled over the now uneven paving stones, I started to plan out my return route in my head. Above all else, I wanted to avoid the industrial area I'd come through. I had no interest and no desire to re-experience it. Instead, I chose to keep my eyes open for any sign of a city. I eventually came to a sign pointing to 'Oido Station' and decided to follow its vague directions which led deep into a part of Siheung City. Unaware of where I was I simply took turns at random points, knowing only which direction I had to continue in to get back to Ansan. At one point I followed another man on a bike, hoping that maybe he was also heading towards the station...he wasn't.

Regardless of my disorientation, it felt nice to be in more familiar surroundings. Much cleaner, much more alive, and far more affluent than what I had previously rode through. Crossing a large intersection I came to another sign pointing to Oido Station. Only this time the arrow pointed in almost the opposite direction. I kept going along, hoping to (since I'd forgotten my T-Money Card) follow the subway tracks all the way to Ansan. Sooner than I thought I came to the station. It was alive with people. I noticed that Dokbokki was being sold from a few tents and I definitely felt hungry enough to stop and eat. But, feeling that I should eat when I returned to Ansan, I avoided stopping. I felt that I needed to keep in my rhythm, that time was critical, and that if I stopped now I may not make it back until the early morning. So, I kept going, following what I thought were the subway tracks.

Abruptly, all the buildings ended. Even the road ended. It split off into two tunnels, one with a pedestrian walkway, another without. I obviously took the one with the walkway, mostly because it led in the direction of Ansan. Picking up my bike I went down the stairs into the tunnel. Expecting a longer stretch of road, I was disappointed when the tunnel was only about 100 feet long. It was grey inside and no cars passed through. When I got onto my bike, another cyclist went past, a blinking red light sitting on the back of his bike. I took this as a good sign. Reaching the end of the tunnel I turned the corner which led to another set of stairs. I was welcomed by a giant mass of spider webs and spiders. Apparently this tunnel didn't see a lot of human traffic. Maybe not a good sign...Undeterred, I picked up my bike and began to walk up the stairs. Was I almost home?

Long Road pt.1

This is a really big one...so get prepared to read in shifts if you don't have time, somehow the formatting got a little messed up during my quick editing, so forgive any weird chunks here and there...I think I got them all


--------------------------

So I bought a Human yesterday. His complexion was very red and I liked how bad his english was. I simply couldn't say no. Besides, he promised to help me dream into my memory, again, I couldn't refuse.

With little coaxing, Human (I kept the name because I felt naming him anything else would simply be too confusing) and I went for a ride. I didn't feel like walking or running, so I rode atop Human. We quickly escaped the one hour walking border that I had previously been restricted to. We moved past the subdivision of bizarre single family dwellings and started our way up a giant hill. Reaching the top, I looked back. It was a nice vista, so I had to take some pictures. I can't wait until I get to some higher areas, to see what I can see.

After cresting the hill, I noticed a quiet staircase on the opposite side of the road. It led to a well trodden path. I surmised that it would lead to a temple. Specifically the one I have wanted to visit since I saw it two months ago. With Human, this seemed much more plausible. We crossed the road, I carried Human, due to the very precarious nature of our crossing, and got to the staircase. The pathway had a very quiet demeanour. I felt awkward taking my bike up it, so I quickly abandoned that idea. Turning back my eye caught sight of a very large spider. Sitting in its web beside it was a much smaller male spider. I snapped a couple of pictures, but the poor quality of my camera mixed with my fear of spiders prevented any sort of quality picture. Besides, I was more interested in finding the sea. Me and Human turned around and headed down the hill.

Now, the interesting thing about this city is that many pathways are made up of stone or clay tiles. Normally it would be a very beautiful way of paving. The only problem is that the tiles are simply set into sand. Sometimes they bulge upwards at odd angles, other times the shift as you go over them, and more often they tend to pike up into pyramids, deadly to the unwary. Thankfully this hill only featured the shifting kind of tiles.

We came across buildings that were very similar to the ones in my area. The only odd thing was that the air on this side of the hill had a sickly sweet smell and almost every surface had a touch of black or grey dust. Taking in my surroundings so that I could easily return, human and I started to come across some factories. Small and sporadic at first, the factories quickly grew in both size and frequency. To date, much of the Korea that I've seen has been fairly sanitised and almost disturbingly Western. The area I was entering was neither of those. Sounds of machinery inside the factories and the bellowing of boilers made it certain that there was life inside. But on the outside, there was a grime that made the area feel very unhealthy, dead or dying. It was a startling contrast to where I live, where things are fairly affluent. This area was definitely developed, but it felt very poor...very real.

Me and Human passed many factory complexes which were only split up by small forested areas and the occasional enclave of supply stores. The sea, the Sea...I wasn't sure where it was, only that it was near. Signage was sparse and all I had to go on was a curious intuition. At my first large intersection, the left turn seemed like it led to a collection of very large and inaccessible factories. The right turn led to a long straight road dominated by seemingly more accessible factories. Feeling like I needed to stay on a path/walk way I took the right turn. Almost immediately, I was welcomed by unbroken kilometer upon kilometer of factories. Employees from various South Asian countries dotted the walkways and sidewalks. Apparently they come here to escape from poor paying factories in their home countries to come to these less poor paying factories in this country. As Human and I rushed past them, I could only wonder what their working conditions were like inside these polluted factories. If the health conditions inside were anything like those outside...

This industrial park went on for several more kilometers until it was interrupted by a dirty and ill-developed industrial supply area. Cruising along, I eventually reached another large intersection. In front of us in the distance were familiar looking apartment buildings, possibly near Ansan station. To the right was a path that would eventually lead home, and to the left was seeming emptiness. We went left, crossing an 8 lane intersection with the aid of a traffic light that took several minutes to change.

Rural farms with open rice fields housing transmission towers quickly overtook the previously omnipresent factories. Though the sickly sweet odor of the district still hung in the air, it was now much easier to draw breath. Soon after cresting another hill I saw some farmers working in a field near the roadside. They wore straw hats, faded clothing, and had very tanned skin. I stopped with the intent of taking a picture, but stopped myself. I've heard that the main issue arising from this country developing so quickly was that the gap between rich and poor has become incredibly dramatic. Watching these people work away, a poorly built shanty beside them, the reality of that divide became all to real. I slung my backpack onto my shoulders again, refusing to take a picture of these people. Although it was new to me, they were simply working. They weren't a spectacle, and I certainly didn't need to show off their image to anybody back home. So me and Human just kept going, choosing instead to admire and hold them in memory rather than capture their image for display.

As we rode along a path, which was now more sand and gravel than tile, I saw only a few buildings and some oddly placed restaurants. There was also a quiet park housing a shrine which sat atop a small hill. With reaching the sea in mind, I chose to drive past the park. Besides my goal, the entry was blocked by a collapsible yellow barrier. At that moment, it was deterrent enough for me to keep going, but next time it probably won't. Slowly, we reached another intersection. Human and I slowly crept by an old woman who was walking around her truck, leaving what looked to be a junkyard. I coasted to the intersection and was quickly greeted by a barking dog. I looked behind me and was startled to see a tan coloured mastiff charging towards me. Not panicking, I simply uttered 'shh shh shhhh' and tried not to make direct eye contact. It soon left me alone. Likely because I wasn't on its property and thus not a threat. That, or it never intended to do anything in the first place.

At this intersection there was nothing straight ahead of me and to the right there were only a few buildings in the distance. I chose to go right. The rural feel of the area didn't leave but at least the path I was on was actually a path. I mentioned earlier that none of the smaller sidewalk tiles are set with mortar or concrete, and it was along this stretch that I first suffered from this lack of development foresight. Stones jutted upwards at weird angles, dove into abrupt pot-holes, and made it a bumpy ride for me and Human. But even though it was uncomfortable it certainly helped the area feel that much more real and raw. Occasionally I'd drive by bushes hiding garbage, poorly built huts on the roadside, and the occasional farm stall/shop. Then, I came to a scene which I had to stop and take a picture of. Behind an opening created in the greenery that bordered the walkway, was a lonely farmer's field. It sat empty, protected from the outside by green barbed wire and protected from the inside by scarecrows clad in the same clothing I had previously seen some farmer's wearing. It again reminded me of the divide between classes here. I still can't believe how it can be so invisible yet so obvious.

As I finished taking my pictures, a pair of cyclists passed me, using the road instead of the pathway. I thought that maybe I should follow the same route but my fear of Korean roads hadn't yet subsided. Instead, I kept riding on the haggard path, even when a long sloping hill threatened the longevity my legs, I just kept on the path. As I watched them crest the hill, I stopped paying attention to the many obstacles in front of me. Not unexpectedly, I crashed down into a jagged pothole. Human jumped out deftly and I inadvertently swore. A metallic sound echoed behind me and I dismissed it as nothing. I now figure that it was, at this point, that Human lost a nut from his seat. Poor fellow.

After I had reached the top of the hill I was dismayed to see another unending stretch of factories. By this point, the sun had started to set and the streets had remained persistently empty. The sickly sweet smell quickly came back, but the path I was on quickly came to an end. With the curbs being much larger and sharper than North American ones I simply decided to pick Human up and jog across the rode. Once on the other side, we kept going, into a new area, into the dark. Moving along at a quick pace I was just completely baffled at how many factories were here. It's no wonder that this continent is able to outstrip the rest of the world in production. Although it's a very broad generalisation to imply, I can be certain that I was not driving through the worst or most dense factory district in this region.

Crossing intersection after intersection I finally came across another road-sign, "Oido, Daebudo Island" and an arrow pointing in the direction I was going. A good enough reason for me to continue. Despite the encouragement of the sign, the factories continued. The smells and sounds persisted. Only now a new sight kept welcoming me; sporadic alleyways between buildings, black, save for the occasional headlights from a car or scooter. More than once I considered cutting through them just to see what I could see, but I figured I should simply keep on a direct path. Especially considering how my entire trip so far had been one giant detour. With the distance I'd travelled so far, it seemed like I'd never reach Oido. I was confused, lost, and determined. Maybe it would have been better if I could have panicked and abandoned the trip. But, I didn't, and that's when I came to, you guessed it, another large intersection. This time with a sign pointing to Oido (straight ahead) and Daebudo (to the left). I figured Oido was more reachable, so I continued straight ahead.

On my left was a big building that said "Steel Town". I figured it was just for that particular building. A Holly's Coffee and some other familiar stores sat on the ground floor and a fountain and steel-pipe orb sat on the outside. An encouraging sign. Non-factory life. Abruptly, my hope for a straightforward trip was again interrupted. Another walkway ended, right alongside a 6 lane road..at an intersection with malfunctioning lights. It was quite busy and I didn't want to go back to the lights I'd crossed just a minute before. I waited for a break in the traffic and ran with Human to a small lined median in the centre. Waiting again for traffic to break, I completed the run. Above the road was another sign, this time it said 'Oido, Daebudo, Sihwa Seawall' Left. Heck...sounded better than here, and all of the areas were listed as being together. It seemed closer than ever. I started going again, moving through the 'actual' steel town. A massive facility of...steel plants? It stretched for about a kilometer before dumping me out onto another road. with another ending path.

At the end of the path was a belt store with ridiculous fluorescent lighting. It seemed like a silly place to have a store, but there was so much car traffic along this road they probably understood their market more than I did. Losing my fear of Korean cars, I aggressively made my way across the road and kept speeding along. More factories. Somehow...more factories. The pathways here were also very poorly kept. Full sections of just sand and small sections of panels, having been heaved by roots, jutting out at dangerous angles. I kept biking along, feeling the air getting cooler and the sweet smell of the factories giving way to algae and maybe even water. The sea was close. I stopped paying attention again and narrowly missed snagging my face on some barbed wire coils. Jutting out aggressively from a fence were coils upon coils of razor wire. I thought it was a prison, then I saw a soldier walking towards the gates. He took a left turn and vanished behind some walls. As I passed by I saw some guards hurriedly closing the gates after having let the man inside. It was some kind of military installation. I wasn't sure if I should feel safer at this point but, considering the large amount of traffic going by I figured it was definitely for the better.

Feeling like I was closing in on my goal, I passed a big section of murals painted on sheet metal. They depicted the sea. I was close. Then I noticed that the murals were guarding yet another factory...great. Eventually I came to a large 8 lane intersection. It was packed with cars, trucks, and thankfully, fish delivery trucks. I had to be close. I crossed the street, ignoring the beautiful park in front of me, and took a left turn. A large sign sat above the roadway, "Oido" it said, a picture of a smiling child, standing in a mudflat, with a shellfish in hand. I was very close. The traffic stayed intense and I started to pass people on foot, people on bikes, and people with fishing rods. Then I started to smell poo. A sewage treatment plant stretched alongside the road. But...where there is a sewage treatment plant there is usually water. A good sign. I came to another intersection...good old intersections, and saw water on my right. On my left, a large wall obstructing my view. Above the roadway read a sign, "Daebudo Island (Ahead)12km. Oido (Right)" Since I was finally at the Yellow Sea (or the West Sea), I figured I might as well head to Daebudo. It had been dark for a while now, but that didn't worry me. As Human and I got to the top of a small hill I realised that I was about to bike along a 12km causeway to get to this Island. It was getting late and I hadn't ridden this far on a bike in a while. On top of that I'd forgotten to bring food with me (as I'd planned), I was running low on water, and my legs were just beginning to feel tired from the pedaling. I wondered if I'd be able to physically commit to the journey back. But, I only entertained this thought for a second. I'd come this far and I only had to work at 4pm the next day. I had plenty of time to stop and sleep if I needed it. Plenty of time to get back if I got lost. I pedaled onto the bridge, into the breeze, further into the night...



Getting to Daebudo and back...another day.

Too Big of a Gap

New posts are coming soonish. I get reliable internet at home on monday. Until then, I'll try and get one up tonight or tomorrow morning. It's been too long.