I just stumbled across an interesting read at Slate about a writer, once English teacher, and his reminiscence on the transient, often self-destructive expat life in Korea.
If I was in a big city, and had some friends, I'd probably face the same malaise. That said, I've known enough guys at King's pretending to be Jack Kerouac/Henry Miller beautiful bastard balls of phony, neurotic and self-indulgent fire, that I'd willingly choke on my own tongue (and maybe a few hookers' for good measure...) before I sunk into a pithy swamp of cheap self-loathing and assholery for the sake of "art."
Anyway, I look forward to visiting Busan sometime soon.
Edit: I did some homework and this Rolf Potts is something of a travel writing superstar. Definitely worth checking out.
A Canadian writer teaches English and finds out what it's like to be a foreigner.