The world through soju eyeglasses and maekju breaths

Nothing important to report. I went to the convenience store for a few beers and soju this evening. Seoul is a very warm city. The greenhouse gases make smog, and the smog traps in the heat radiated by the ocularly infinite train of people and electric signs advertising meat shops at least twice a block. When I look out of the ninth-floor smoking room window of my school, I can see mountains. A month ago, they were not as obscured by the smog as they are now. The city is full of small, hillish-like mountains. ( We would call them hills in many parts of the United States.) The mountains surround the city-- they are part of it. They also jut up throughout the interior of Seoul, creating an unusual illusion of nature, something I would have never imagined in a metropole of this size.
Now though, the small mountains are hardly visible from a distance of two kilometers, even at an elevated view. You can see the particles in the air. Any animosity whatsoever that I had developed against smoking cigarettes has been negated as a result of the air of this city.