Act Three, Slightly Slower

The Samsung project wrapped up. My school coursework was more or less wrapped up too. I needed a change of scenery, badly. So I finally did the thing I'd been "thinking about" for ages: go to Gyeongju World. Four hours after the idea hit me, the room was booked and paid for.

Quick context for anyone not from here. South Korea is a pretty tiny country, but getting from Seoul to Gyeongju (it's near Busan) is still about 400km. By car, that's usually four to five hours. If you live somewhere like the western US, that probably sounds like a casual drive. But in a country where basically everything is crammed into Seoul, a trip like that is something you have to mentally prepare for.

Oh, and Gyeongju World is an amusement park. From what I've heard, it has a roller coaster that's a pretty big deal in Asia.

And so began my first-ever free-and-easy road trip, just me and my little car, Boongboong (think "vroom vroom"). I booked everything in a rush, so there wasn't much of a plan. Honestly, calling it "unplanned" wouldn't be far off.

I worked late the night before, left at 6 a.m., and rolled into Gyeongju around 9:30. It was a weekday, so nobody was out on a trip and the highway was practically empty. I hit 170 km/h at one point. Boongboong nearly exploded.

10 a.m. Heart pounding, about to walk in. And then. Oh, you have got to be kidding me.

Tour buses. A whole line of them. Twenty in a row. I asked at the ticket booth and, I kid you not, over 2,000 people were coming in on group tours that day. Word was the wait for a single ride could be two hours or more.

While I stood there asking myself if this was really happening, more buses kept pulling in. Judging by the crowd, it was elementary and middle schoolers on school trips. (In Korea, schools take entire grades on these big group outings. Mostly sightseeing, mostly chaos.) Sigh.

After a long debate with myself, I decided this wasn't it. I cancelled my ticket and bought a new one for 3 p.m., which is roughly when the little ones would be heading home.

Now what?

I decided to go find a good lunch, a nice café, and maybe a bit of downtime.

Truth is, I'd been under a lot of stress lately. Zero breathing room.

Here's what a normal day looks like for me. I wake up at 5 a.m. and commute an hour and a half. Before work even starts, I get through the morning news, the latest AI updates, and a morning class. Work is basically a one-person show, so I'm juggling a dozen things and suddenly it's lunch. After lunch, more work. If there's any time left, I squeeze in my UIUC coursework. Then it's evening, and another two hours in the car. I get home around 7. Swim or a quick workout, shower, and it's 10. Then I study again, and I have to get to bed early because, yes, 5 a.m. is coming again.

I've been living like this since I was twenty. There was never any slack in it.

I thought everyone lived like this.

Turns out it was just me. (No regrets, to be clear. I got real things out of all that effort.)

But... whenever I saw people my age not living like this, just having fun and going places, I was always jealous. A little bitter, even.

So this trip was me trying it for once. Since I'd never done anything like it, my head was full of doubts right up until I left. Is this okay? Shouldn't I be at the office? I should at least bring my laptop. Maybe I could get some studying done while I'm there?

But after three hours on the road, stepping into a place I'd never been before, I felt great.

I can't really explain why. I just felt really, really good. The weather, the surroundings, all of it was new and quiet, with this slow, warm kind of feeling that Seoul just doesn't have. So while I waited for my new entry time, I had an amazing hoedeopbap (a Korean raw-fish rice bowl) and hung out at a well-known coffee shop, thinking about absolutely nothing. (Okay, full disclosure: before I got in line at the restaurant, I did sit in the car and get some work done on my laptop. Can't let go of work completely, haha.)

The food was great. The coffee was great. And this quiet, alone, think-about-nothing time turned out to be pretty nice.

At 3 p.m. I finally walked in and rode eight rides that were closer to torture devices (?) than attractions. The park closes at 6, so I'd been worried about getting only three hours. But the lines were short and the place was fairly empty (I'm guessing all those field-trip kids had gone home), so I got to ride everything I'd always been curious about.

And the rides were incredible. Unlike the old, tired rides back in Seoul, everything here felt state-of-the-art. They basically throw you around like a rag doll. Violent. But safe, and ridiculously fun.

Almost every single one did full 360-degree loops, and they were fast and long and... anyway, I had the best time. I'd happily do the three-hour drive again just to go back.

After all that, I headed toward Busan, stayed a night, and planned to drive back to Seoul the next day. In Busan I looked at the ocean, had some sea eel, and for once didn't worry about money or work. I just did whatever I felt like doing.

And you know what? Nothing bad happened. My worries had always been bigger than reality.

The next day I had another great lunch and drove back up to Seoul. Traffic was bad, so it took about five hours, and my back felt like it was about to snap. Still, it was the most satisfying trip I've ever taken in Korea.

It was relaxed. It was the boldest thing I'd done in a long time, a little rebellious even. And for once, I got out from under my own compulsions.

For years I'd been living by rules and pressures I set for myself. So even if it had to be something like this, I liked the feeling of loving myself a little. Of giving myself some room and a warm hug. Of actually looking out for me.

My teens were full of curiosity and things I wanted to try. My twenties were about pressure and success, always whipping myself to do more. I hope my thirties, my third act, will be the chapter where I love myself a little more and take better care of me.

Thank you. Thank IJ.