Writers, whatever they write, they evoke certain homesickness. I guess it is because I have always longed to be a writer, ever since I was young, I spent so many nights with other peoples' books, secretly reading under a seat after my mom has turned off the lights. It's very cheap and easy whereas other hobbies cost too much. I sometimes enjoyed the moment returning home alone, crossing an empty playground from school. I wrote a lot of essays and poems in my head, I was always very excited although they were usually gone before I could place them on paper.

After growing up, writing was like making bread and my old dream seemed to come into realization. I have some spaces to release my writing now and this small webzine (based on blogging tool) makes me really happy.  I have always dreamed of more splendid success but I accepted the truth that success is not the goal but a part of the process. These days I meet many other journalists and writers through my work. We share different kinds of information like when the best opportunity for an interview is or how to spot the better angle. And we sometimes become models for the other's article and urgent news givers.

Anyway, in the small room of the repairman, while sitting on a dusty chair, I waited and watched his magic hands fixing my broken shoe. He grabbed the shoe in one hand, looked at it and said, "Hey, did you have a hard fall? I know everything. I can fix this even if nobody else does it." It was the first time for me to see a broken nail. How amazing it is to see that a nail can be broken. And it's more amazing to know that the nail was hiding in my shoe.

He took out a plastic bottle labelled "Milkiss." As he shook it, came various nails. He removed the insole from my shoe, and drove a new nail into it then he affixed the insole again. My shoe returned to normal. It was a real magic show done just infront of my eyes. I was thankful for this short break in the routine of my daily life. He was a real craftsman.

Yesterday, on the bus I met a baby wearing hood shirt with animal ears dangling on it.I had Eye contact with his black jewel eyes, I just smiled like a child. After returninng to my office, I corrected some rough words, and I felt better.

In Korea, many things are confusing now. A respectful professor, Son, Seok-hee will be replaced from the  main TV discussing program. He was always self-controlling so it made other people think reasonably, but why no more tomorrow? What'll  happen next? I feel a little scared, but I continually tell myself, Concentrate on what I can do now and I realized I still have many good things still existing, like a 3000-won lunch, a plan to meet recycling business people, a neighborhood's baby smiling like an angel.. I will start from here. Don't be a monster.

I sometimes take an unplanned ride on a bus which would take me to totally new places. When you really want to take a break from mundane things, but have no time to travel to far away place, or when your favourite music pllaylist no longer works, this can help.

Every street is connected, jut like a spider's web. When you think you've reached the farthest from your place, the next moment you're on the road returning. As the landscape changes outside the window, so does the bus driver's feelings, from yelling to one passenger in anger to his kind support of an elderly rider. Just one or two hours would be enough to refresh yourself and it only costs several thousand won.