Patiently, Persistently - You Are Bound To Be Successful!

So the Daegan is over, we've been back in Seoul for a week now. Enough time to rest up and review that whole experience. It definitely rates as one of the top 3 hardest things I've done. Just for the sheer doggedness needed to keep getting up each day and walking, through all weather, through injury, through doubts and most of all through the steep, green, never-ending ridges and peaks of the Korean mountains. The Baekdudaegan is unrelenting in nature, and pushed me right through to the last day.

At times it felt like a 10-day Vipasanna meditation course, as we confronted each day, knowing that another would follow in similar fashion. At times wanting to escape, at times euphoric, at times blaming, at times accepting. A lot of the time was spent alone in contemplation, there were a few niggles for sure - but at the end of the day we helped each other through our various mood swings, always falling back to the camaraderie and humour brought about through shared challenge.

Above all else I learned three big lessons from this trail.

Patience -  Man did this trek teach me patience. It's okay to slow down sometimes, in fact sometimes I need to just chill out. It's natural to want something immediately, life ain't that easy! Long term goals take energy, commitment and awareness. Rarely does anything go as planned, but if you're determined enough you'll eventually succeed.

Persistence - no matter how bad it got, physically or mentally - the simple act of taking the next step was all that needed to be done. At times I felt like giving up, but after to committing to finish this trek no matter what, I'm very happy I persisted. It was a huge lesson in completion. The last few years it seems like I've been jumping from one thing to the next, always starting, never finishing. When setting a challenging goal and then completing it through to the end you will no doubt have some big ups and big downs, but time will roll forward and each step you take will ultimately lead you to the finish!

Jeong - we've mentioned multiple times the genuine hospitality of Korean people. Whether it be candy hastily given, a prompt invitation to lunch, an ice-cream bought on a hot day or being welcomed into a family home, Koreans really know how to give! They give immediately and without second thought/calculation of return. It is enlightening to experience and has left a permanent etch on my consciousness. To be able to give freely like this must surely be the greatest gift of all.

Lastly, a big thank-you to my able companions - the Squire, Kathleen and Ki-Jun for sharing the experience, couldn't have done it without you.

I'm happy that it's over and happy that I did it, will definitely not repeat!

Mountain climbers search for the eternal world.
Until they reach their destination,
They get over their adversity with passion and cooperation.
Their is never despair or abandonment.
Mountain climbers must assimilate with Mother Nature
And be without deception and decoration.
There is only a march to the true world of freedom, peace and love.

(a poem found on one of the steles along the trail)

Thanks for reading and supporting,

Raby Johsnon

(rob.bruce.nz@gmail.com)

Up from the ashes grow the roses of success!

It's all over! In this post, I'll take you through the final kilometres as we walked them...experience it as it was, be there and relive the glory (!)

Strung out and emaciated at the final monument of the Baekdu Daegan.

The last 5km was unremarkable; it was drizzling (again), and we walked mostly along roads through farmland. It was mundane stuff, in direct contrast to the energy of the team, which was boisterous and at times delirious - we were within an hour's walk from finishing almost seven weeks of hiking, the last 5 km out of 735. We were excited, expectant, hungry for the end, but still we had to walk the kilometres!

A kareoke started as we swaggered to within three kilometres of the line. Ki-Jun warbled in his high falsetto, singing 'All by myself', a song that had become something of a theme along the Daegan, being one of the few songs that all three of us knew. I had an obscure number from the 1968 musical 'Chitty Chitty Bang Bang' stuck in my head on repeat...'Up from the ashes, up from the ashes, grow the roses of success!' - how apt! Raby joined in on the chorus of 'Up from the Ashes' and then threw out a lyrically accurate rendition of James Blunt's 'You're beautiful'!

Eventually the karaoke died and as we drew within 1 kilometre of the end Ki Jun asked how our parents met - hardly the kind of thing you could imagine talking about at this late stage in the game! By the time we had translated the fact that our father's family immigrated to New Zealand from Scotland when he was 8, we were within 300 metres of the line. One last slippery downhill section through some forest, and then we saw it - the grey monument that marked the end of the Baekdu Daegan in South Korea. Come on!

Much yelling and cheering followed, I threw my backpack to the ground, stripped off and did a short nude run down the road, then we all took our shirts off and posed our emaciated hiking bodies for a victory photograph in front of the stele. As we posed for the camera, truckloads of soldiers drove past (we were close to the DMZ) and they waved and shouted hello. We shouted back at them and pumped our fists - these soldiers were the only people to see us at the finish of the Daegan. There was no crowd gathered, no podium, no nothing, really. We still had to work out the bus schedule and get back to Seoul - the glory of the finish was rather short-lived, but the glow of victory remains still!

Victory Speech

I should take a moment here to thank all of the people who, through their gifts of food, accommodation, washing facilities, or general morale-boosting encouragement, helped us to the finish-line. I'm talking about my main man Jang-sik (and his family) in Gimcheon; Mr. Baek and his friends and family at the Live Music cafe; the random trail-clearing party who gave us food when we were starving; Ki-Jun's friends who met us with 200km to go and fed us; my main man Carel, who drove an hour and a half to pick us up from the trail, hosted us at a swanky pension in the hills for a weekend, then drove us all the way back to the trail; our friends in Macheon who hosted us for a few days at the beginning of the trail; the couple who gifted us jewelry and a bottle of ginseng alcohol; the countless random people who pressed candy and other food into our hands as we passed them on the walk; the monks who let us stay at their temple and fed us; the family collecting forest plants who fed us; the list goes on and on. Much respect to all of these people - kind people, mountain people, maybe enlightened people?! Their unstinting generosity taught us again and again how to give freely, expecting nothing in return. I only hope I have learnt this lesson well.

I would also like to thank my main woman Mother Nature, for all the trees, the flowers the plants, the birds, rocks and insects. What beauty! What grandeur! What a test you provided for us from moment to moment, and how spectacularly I failed at times, only to learn the lesson, step forward again, get promptly put back in my place, and then go forward again. Slowly I am learning the Etiquette of the Wild (phrase courtesy of Gary Snyder). You cannot outflank nature! Do not fight the moment! Live very particularly, place your feet carefully, don't drift off, boy, you'll trip again! So elegant! I only grasped the very rough details of these ethics, but I shall do my best to apply them back in 'civilisation'.

Finally, to my trail companions, Ki-Jun and Mr. Raby Johnson - thank-you. There were edgy times, brittle times, times of agitation, but these were brief! Humour won through time and again and I have nothing but respect and admiration for you guys! Thank-you for the trail times.

The final morning - Raby Johnson looks nervously out from beneath his hat.

The final trail meal: shit weather, ramyeon again, soaking wet - and what of it?! We were 5km from the finish-line and totally unphased!

It's all over!

A truck of soldiers drove by just as the self-timer went off, only Raby stayed focused!

Does this photo belong on the blog? On the subway in Seoul.

And now?

We are back in Seoul, back where it all began! It was very strange arriving in this mega-city after the rustic Korean countryside. Here, there is everything you might want to recover from the Daegan, but still this place feels dead to me, with everyone clinging to their smart-phones and their external appearance. This opinion is probably influenced somewhat by the emptiness which comes following the finish of a major undertaking such as the Daegan. Still, I feel a need to get out and get into some big country, to get some travel momentum going again.

Fortunately, much plan-making has been happening over the last few days. A tour of the Stans is being organised. We left our passports at the Kazahkstan embassy yesterday, and we should be flying to Almaty next week sometime, and then overland into the mountainous and little-known countries of Kyrgyzstan and Turkistan. Exciting times shall follow, possibly we will blog about it, possibly not. We'll let you know.

Final note

If anyone is thinking about visiting the South Korean countryside, or (heaven forbid) attempting the Baekdu Daegan, then do not hesitate to contact us for more information.

Email address is: mjmbruce@gmail.com, or leave a comment on this blog. We are more than happy to give all the information we can regarding this amazing country.

Grinding it out in Gangwondo: Unabridged (my final week's diary)

Day 40: Ragged sleep, woke early - hung round waiting for opening. Used the radiator to dry clothes. Met another older hiker who very generously shouted us breakfast and coffee. He made his money in finance, now trekking all over the world. Extreme white-out again - 20 m visibility. First 12 km on a 4wd track, wind turbines swooping out of the fog. Second half was a closed section. Rain began, wet, overgrown trail in your face. Lost Ki-Jun for 2 hours but followed the hard-core Daeganers' lead once more. Past security cameras, fences, even bloody razor wire, but always a ribbon to keep you on track! No one else around, no view, just walking to cover ground. Closed hyugeso waiting - great! 2nd consecutive night on the porch, rain coming down. Hobo's helm. Shifted on by the owner in the morning. That's enough. Let's get out of here! Taxi down to 진부면, set up in a motel to dry and wash gear. Never fun leaving the ridge but no point walking in the rain again. 95 km over 4 days anyway.

Day 41: Hung out again - just want to get this thing over now. Closed sections ahead which Ki-Jun wants to do. We couldn't care less and just want to move on but what the hell - we're in it together now.

Day 42: Enlightening day really. Caught the bus out of town then secured a beautiful hitch to the pass in the tray of a flat-bed truck. Put us in great spirits - beautiful weather - sky was washed after 3 days constant rain - sunny and clear. Walked a closed section but didn't seem patrolled - 22 km - knee feels great, inside 100 km now. Forest was mostly cool and green tunnels, with big views through the trees. Bigger country now and it feels so much nicer being higher and more remote, a little wilder. Breathing seems easier, plans for the future come streaming in, doubts surface less often. Maybe it's taken this long to clear my head.

Day 43: Camped at the rear of an old hyugeso. Awoke to the fog streaming in again. Gangwondo is really not coming to the party weather-wise. Cloud turned to misty, dripping forest - overgrown trails and slippery mud. Loving it. Camped at a damp and foggy spot in the forest after 15km to rest Squire's ankle. Made a fire and hit the tent early. Wet-sleeping bag paranoia.

Day 44: Damp morning, plan was 21 km but flew through the course as Squire's ankle was 3 pain-killers fine. Wonderful, wet-dripping head-high foliage soaked us within 30 minutes. Waited an hour for Ki-Jun to arrive to lunch, he battled his mind, trying to decide to complete the upcoming so-called 'dangerous' section. Coffee and ramyeon tipped the balance - we walked on, aiming for 함계령, 13 km away. The weather was clear above 1100 m, and sweet vista's appeared to boost our spirits. The craggy peaks of Seoraksan rising above the fog-line sweeping in off the East Sea were welcome relief from the green tunnel. A ropey, rocky descent followed and even a quick siphon 1km from the finish couldn't phase us. We pumped up the road in the gloom, stoked, happy and loving the blazing lights of the open 휴게서! One of our best sleeping options yet - a caretaker's tool tent attached to the toilet block. Lay down on a pile of cardboard and ignored the wafting sewer, happy to be dry and stoked to have a roof over our heads.

Day 45: Up early to vacate our quarters. Still misty and murky. Another bibimbap and more gwaja for breakfast. Easy sort of day up to the mountain shelter, mostly uphill and again nice views above the fog. Seoraksan is actually very beautiful, full of amazing rock spires and granite slabs too steep even for the most adventurous Pinus koreanus (extremely hardy Korean pine tree). Struggled to stay in the BD zone, letting the mind wander. Ki-Jun is starting to niggle us - but the problem is really due to me being tired, last days impatience and the constant language barrier frustrations. Come evening there were beautiful views out over Seorak, islands jutting above the fog. Chanting from the temple below rose up valley, the notes twisting and swirling with the fog, filling us with a gentle calm. My thoughts began drifting toward the finish line. Bracing for the last big push tomorrow, for the final campsite. Bring it! One last march to victory.

Day 46: Well f**k you Daegan - you almost broke me. What a rough gig. To start with the weather was most foul and unnatural. To second with the trail was painstakingly slow, as we walked the dinosaur's spine - a famous section in Seoraksan that traverses an amazing section of ridge promising soaring outcrops of naked granite and views through to the mysterious North Korea.
But yeah, saw none of that!
Again we were enveloped in the cold swirling fog. Actually I didn't mind it by now, numb to my fate and happy just to keep plodding and daydreaming about coming back and climbing some of these amazing pinnacles. That was until we drifted into another siphon, probably the worst yet. Basically we started walking another closed section, quickly lost the trail in the white-out conditions, scrabbled for half an hour down an incredibly steep and overgrown trail, only to come out at a well-made staircase that signaled we had actually come in the complete opposite direction.
My mind cut lose!
I was really rattled, rarked up and riled, raging that we even had to walk these sections in this pure shite weather. I raced to plot my escape down the valley and around to the next pass by road. I simply didn't want to walk back up that staircase, along another overgrown trail. Having already eaten my sugar rations for the day I was gwaja-less and reeling. This after 45 days on the trail and not 25 km from the end.
It was pure poison.
Squire, having already realised his fate, had started to plod back up the stairs. Naturally my wild mind latched onto this action and vented it's fury. That prick, making me go back up there, stronger in will than I and resigning me to this walk. Then to the weather - why won't it stop f'ing raining, is a bit of dry too much to ask for? Then to Ki-Jun for driving us to walk these stupid closed sections. Amazingly juvenile stuff, yet impossible to staunch the tirade.
Externalising rage when things don't go my way, like in this situation, is exactly what I'm trying to unlearn through meditation - but at this moment I was uncontrollable. Shut up, just keep walking, keep walking, just observe - eventually this will go away. And it did - but it took at least 2 hours to fully drop that moment, as the Daegan tossed up some large, knee-jarring granite boulder scree slopes that were atrociously wet and steep, followed by more enclosed, unmarked and overgrown trail. Completely over the day I stormed ahead, recklessly not looking at the map to confirm if I was on the trail, determined to plough through and end this once and for all. The track I was on for all the world felt like a siphon - I couldn't have cared less where I turned up.
Anyway, one last waist-high tunnel later I stumbled out of the mist onto the pass. Thank God for that. It's over. Not! Apparently there is ranger danger here, as the track is closed both sides of the pass. I crept around the old hyugeso carpark, quickly becoming colder and more paranoid. What looked like uniformed men were walking around the sight in official manner. I ducked across the entrance and hid in the bushes briefly, laughing to myself now at the sheer outrageous-ness of the situation - sorry, what am I doing here again??! Employing skills learned in the countless backyard spy-sagas of my youth, I stealthily edged back to the exit point and suddenly heard voices. Yuss! Must be another couple of die-hard Daeganers lying low, also waiting for the rangers to leave. I edged toward the noise and almost screamed, as two Korean soldiers materialised before me, sitting casually in a foxhole with weapons lying beside. I don't know who got the bigger fright. One of them thrust a stick of candy at me. I threw out some panicky Korean, trying to act like this was a completely run-of-the-mill encounter.  The game was up and I was ready to surrender. But as it turned out they were just training in the area, not unusual as it is so close to the border with the north. As the convo rapidly died, I edged away, searching for my next hiding place. Then, a whistle from above. Looking up I saw with relief the shadows of Mark and Ki-Jun on the bank above me, signalling if it was okay to comedown? What the hell, I didn't really know but they arrived anyway, and we walked into the car-park to see that the 'rangers' were just more soldiers getting ready to leave. Jeeeez! What an ordeal, what a day.
The hyugeso was derelict and there was no dry land in sight. So, not 15 km from the end we dropped off the ridge once more, again foiled by the weather.
To be honest the boys got over it pretty quickly!
The coastal city of Sokcho was only 20 km away so we called a taxi and within half an hour were gorging ourselves in a local restaurant, finishing the day in the hot-tub of a local jimjilbang. Genius Korea.
Just another insane day on the Daegan!

Foggy Stuff

Cornflakes and Gwaja in Sokcho - 1 day out from finish

Victory! But not before some final drama...

The Daegan is over, we made it! How glorious! How magnificent! (See closing posts above) But, before the glory, the Daegan posed some of it's sternest tests so far, pushing everyone close to the edge, mentally and physically. Would we crack? Of course not! But the drama came thick and fast...listed below are some episodes from the final week and some of the trail conditions that were working against us.

i) The weather.

The weather was appalling for four of the last five days walking, forcing us off the trail twice in this time. It was cold and the mountains of the Baekdu Daegan were lathered in a thick misty rain which meant that visibility under the forest canopy was less than 50 metres. There were no views, and the forest was dripping wet. We camped mostly outside hyugeso's (roadside service areas), squatting in front of the entrances once they had closed for the evening, rising early in order to avoid being discovered by the morning workers. Once we camped in a dank forest pass, the mist all around us and large drops falling persistently onto our tent. Everything became damp and smelled horribly on these days, and morale was often low, with each man keeping his thoughts firmly to himself lest they further infect the atmosphere....

This was not how we had imagined finishing the Daegan. Where was the sun? Where were the views of the East Sea? Where were the famous crags of Seorak-san National Park? They had ceased to exist and I became bitter at times, brooding in the foulness of the mist. Come not with expectations, boy! Reality as it is...as it is!

Ki Jun breaking camp in the rain.

Testing conditions under the canopy.

Pathetic hyugeso campsite.

Raby loving life! A common facial expression during the final few days...

ii) Injury

I developed a slight strain in my right ankle for the last 90 odd kilometres, making hiking uncomfortable, the pain dominating my thoughts and forcing me to move slowly and tentatively. Raby had had similar dark times along the trail with his dodgy knees. The afternoon when my ankle was at it's worst ranks as my second toughest day on the Daegan. On this day I was accompanied by a poisonous mind that cursed such horrible luck.

I thought: '600 km injury free and now this, what bullshit, what utter bullshit! Yet, it is perfect in a way...never become complacent on the Daegan - you thought the worst was over - ha! F**k this!' Other similar thoughts accompanied me during a slow and painful 8 km.

iii) Ticks

For reasons unknown, parts of the trail during this week were crawling with ticks. These insidious creatures lurk on the shrubs and grasses that line the trail, crawling onto the unsuspecting hiker's feet or latching onto our legs as we brushed past the plants. Tick bites hurt and so does pulling the ticks out, but much worse is the mental anguish and obsessive checking of legs every 500m or so to make sure no new ticks had climbed aboard. I suffered three bites in a matter of minutes; each of the offenders had somehow made it under my shorts and had made a stand dangerously close to the groin. They were obviously enjoying the soft skin of the upper thigh area. Sick!

A tick that made itself at home on the back of Raby's knee.

iv) Judgement Day 

Ironically, the second to last day of walking was the day that almost broke us - less than 30 km from the finish! We were back in the rain, and the terrain was rocky and slippery, with brutal uphills followed by equally brutal descents. Raby and I also got siphoned off the trail and were lost for an hour in the mist. Had we experienced a similar day's hiking earlier in the venture we may well have left the trail - the Daegan was pushing us right to the end, and we had to work extra hard - 16km in 11 hours of hiking!

v) Some respite

The above text paints a dark picture, but there were some epic moments when we got up above the clouds in the beautiful Seorak-san national park.

Granite ridges coming out of the mist - the terrain here was anything but easy.

Raby and Ki-Jun take it all in on a particularly slender piece of ridge.

Mysterious peak guarded by the clouds.

Here the mist proves its worth.

And again - the Daegan on fire!

The 'miscellaneous' series.

These photos just didn't gel with any of the text. Still worth publishing, though.

Taking the washing opportunities when they arise. RJ makes the most of a public toilet.

Welcome to Sparkling Korea!

Security camera guarding a closed section of trail. Whether these cameras were functional or not was a popular trail conversation.

Raby Johnson rock jump.

Washing again in a mystical mountain brook.

Rock jumping!

A Korean hiking party goes through some standard pre-hike drills. Many Koreans are passionate hikers, and the hills were swarming with hikers on the weekends. I think the hiking fashion in South Korea is one of the more doubtful aspects of Korean society! This hiking party was particularly special as it was led by a Korean long-hair - an elusive breed of mountain men who are among the only males in the world to successfully rock a ponytail.

Being from New Zealand, we are mad about the Lord of the Rings. This altar had a LOTR vibe about it, and we larked about merrily re-enacting scenes from the trilogy, all the while praising Sir Peter Jackson for the economic benefits brought about by filming LOTR in New Zealand (!)

There were many snakes who were also using the trail, and on numerous occasions we were forced into a stand-off as they refused to move aside. The snakes are beautiful, and thankfully, they were quite small and (relatively) harmless. 

Trail-side temples.

A few photos showcasing the beautiful temples and shrines that we came across during the hike. We were lucky enough to stay at one of Korea's most prestigious Buddhist temples (Buseok-sa) during a rainstorm, and we got to meditate in the main hall, accompanied in our meditation by much chanting and tapping from the monks in residence. Actually, the chanting and tapping made it almost impossible to meditate deeply, but just sitting there with the rain falling on the temple roof was one of those special travel experiences that cannot be pre-arranged!

Temple nestled on the upper slopes of Jiri-san, South Korea's second highest peak.

How equanimous!

A shrine dedicated to the San-shin, or mountain spirits. Worship of the San-shin is still common in the mountainous areas of South Korea, and there are many shrines dedicated to the San-shin along the entire length of the Baekdu Daegan.

A San-shin master with his friendly mate, the San-shin tiger. 

A woman pays her respects to the Buddha during Buddha's birthday celebrations.

A monk hurries to the prayer-room on Buddha's birthday.

Buseok Temple, looking particularly temple-like on this misty morning.

Buseok Temple again.

Lone meditator at a mountain-top shrine. 

Siphoned, a dirty li-ttle siphon

Getting siphoned is, well basically the term we use for getting lost.
Psychologically the word siphon implies that the trail itself is slightly to blame, and it sort of softens the blow somewhat, allowing you to deal with the situation without completely losing it!

Typically on the Daegan, a siphon will progress as follows.

1) Looking through the guide book multiple times, you fool yourself that you've memorised all the names of the day's various san's, bong's, ryeongs and bawi's and locked in the course.
2) Charge up a mountain with head down, completely absorbed in some form of mental anguish.
3) Slowly notice that the path beneath your feet has changed from a wide, well-used track to a more overgrown, narrower affair. typically heading downhill - fast.
4) Convince yourself that you "can't have gone wrong", push aside the growing unease creeping into your head-space and refuse to acknowledge the possibility that you've fucked it up, mainly because you've just dropped 300 m altitude close to vertical in nature and can't quite come to terms with the fact that you may have to turn around,
5) Eventually you voice your opinion to whoever is closest, 'what do ya reckon?'. Usually this person is within shouting distance, but depending on the day, may be spaced at least 1km away, in Ki-Jun's case he may not even be on the same san! Anyway, equally uneasy but also having blocked out the possibility of a siphon, the person will keep following the trail.
6) The inevitable occurs - formal acknowledgement of the siphon is admitted. "We're on the wrong trail" You mother f#%^%. you mo-tha-urrggggggggghhhhhhhh!! What follows is an evil outpouring of rage and an all-round general rant.
7) Now the grieving process, which can last sometime depending on the nature of the siphon. This stage is highly dependent on gwaja, namely the amount at your disposal. A chocolate bar will definitely help ease the pain and decrease the time spent stubbornly contemplating the lost time, energy and recalculating your days hiking and possibly life.
7) Having gotten over this blow to your ego, made your peace with the Sanshin (mountain spirit) and demolished all gwaja at your disposal, you begin the slow grind back up to the ridge, note where you went wrong, comfortably share the blame with the poor signage and in the words of S.N. Goenka..... staarrrt again.....

Poison - Doubt - Indecision - Enlightenment? A run-of-the-mill mental battle on the Daegan.

Some days it all comes out screaming. You know, the whole what the hell am I doing, what the fuck am I doing here? Is this some kind of sick joke? What is the point of this trail. I'm walking another 24 km today, up and down these mountains that are neither hills nor 'real' mountains. Why did I come back to Korea, out of all the trails in the world I chose this - I didn't even consider another one. Right now all seem more interesting.
Suddenly my mind settles somewhat; it wouldn't really matter what trail, which landscape - some may be more spectacular, longer, more interesting etc. The point is that this landscape is exposing me to myself. Maybe the homogenous nature of these hills is reflecting my life right now. Where is the purpose? Why can't I shut those doors?Why won't I open those ones? Where do I have to go next. I feel like I could conquer anything, be anyone, if someone would just tell me WHAT!? Have I really asked that question? No. Think I'm starting to grasp commitment. I swore I would finish this hike no matter what. It has not been easy, injury and all. But the harder you push yourself in anything - the greater the reward after. You just have to keep going, part by part, piece by piece. Shut up Goenka.  Even after 95 km over 4 days, leaving the ridge I feel slightly disappointed. I could have gone harder.
But to realise this every moment is impossible. To my novice brain anyway. When you have something you can't see it. When it's gone you want it back, not even knowing what it was. It's so easy to change your life in your head. Discipline. I need to firmly establish bottom lines and ruthlessly enforce them in my life. Very easy to say - the trail has exposed that for sure.
The purpose has to be first, live that and no matter how foggy it gets it will surely get clearer. What the heck is the purpose??
I don't wanna meditate. I desperately wanna meditate until this madness goes away. Sit down right now then. Fuck that, I'll do it later.