Being Single in Seoul at This Moment in my Life

Before unveiling my state of mind, all readers of this opportunity should have some clear perspectives about me. My first relationship with a girl started in senior year of high school. Of course, I am talking about first serious relationship and if you would like to know what comprise the term "serious relationship", then that is something you need to ask me in person. However, the objective of this exclusive exposure about my "single" mentality has no need to touch upon the term.

So ever since then, I had continuous relationship. My relationship status has not changed for eight years since then, only the girls. I am not purposely trying to be ostensible about my adroit skill with girls. For that matter, my present status and what I am about to share will prove otherwise in the upcoming words. However, just as bees are attracted to flowers and upon preference of which the flowers don't have, my approach to them was inevitable and undeniable.

I was the Don Corleone's "offer" to girls.

Anyone, seriously intimidated by the previous words may challenge me by saying I was only infatuated with girls, therefore probably didn't have clear cut standards of girls to date. Ladies and gentlemen, subject of beauty is subjective and I was honest with myself at all times when it came to selection of flowers. Just as the seasons change, different species of flowers receive different special spotlights. I should've became a florist.

Enough about the past, now I would like to share what I think about myself being a single. As some of you might know, having a relationship in Seoul is about showing that they are indeed in a relationship. All these significant rituals and holidays, which all couples must succumb to, make them ironically insignificant because that is what all of them do. Hundredth day celebration, Valentine's day, White day, 200th day, 300th day, Christmas Eve, Christmas, and the list goes on; I mean there are even couple sales at stores, couple events at restaurants, not to mention the boom of couple clothes, accessories, shoes, and who knows, you name one and sell it in S. Korea, you would be an entrepreneur. But, truthfully, I am also fully convicted in partaking of the national movement of couples.

So it is common for me witness couples' conspicuous expressions of love, which is adorable and cute. But being single in Seoul is sort of an eternal damnation because you see these behaviors everywhere you go. I mean EVERYWHERE. Their behavior is so common that people without significant others' actions are highlighted. Usually, when you see a couple doing there lovely things, people notice them. In here, heaven for couples and hell for others, it's just the other way around. For example, suppose let's say you go to a coffee shop by yourself to write a blog about "Being Single in Seoul at This Moment in my Life". You start to notice glances around you which are all pairs of pair of eyes. You try to act indifferent by having your sight fixed onto the monitor, and by all means their glances are not hostile, rather more pitiful.

I never knew until at this moment, how it sucks not to have a girlfriend. I always thought that I can always scout around for more flowers and being single never mattered. Honestly, I haven't been a single for more than 3 months, if my memory serves me correctly. Getting a girlfriend was like as if going to a refrigerator to drink coke if I had indigestion. But don't get this analogy misconstrued, I was honest and passionate about all my relationship with all the beautiful people I've met. I'm just saying, starting such romance was that natural for me. Then you ask, at this moment, why don't I find one now. Well, that is for the next blog, so keep yourself updated.

<To Be Continued>

Music

At a family vacation house, near the outskirts of Seoul, we decided to take some time off from subconscious toil brought within the city. Purple horizon partly hiding behind wildly orchestrated sea of mountains, we started a camp fire, flicker of light amidst impending, immense darkness. In far distance, highway full of cars can only be seen as absurdity in nature's magnificent presence.

There, we sat around the flicker being hypnotized with nothing particular in mind, but particularly by the dancing swords of flame. To arouse the serene mood even more, I played some songs with my Tab. To my remembrance, the list was of 'Sunny' by Bobby Hebb, Bill Wither's 'Just the Two of Us' and more of the similar harmony.

Minutes seemed like hours, and how I wished these hours would be eternal. My father broke the peace with a remark, "너 많이 성숙해졌구나? 정신상태가 많이 차분해졌어. (You've matured, your mental state is calmer)".

My list of music probably had reflected my state of mind to him.

"예전엔 무슨 '뻑뻑뻑'하는 노래만 듣고 다녔는데. (Before you only used to listen to music with 'fuck, fuck, fuck'.)"
He went on and continued, "무슨 오리새끼나오는 노래만 듣고 다녔잖아~ (You used to constantly listen to music that sounded like duck-quaking)."

By then, I almost fell from tilted chair laughing hideously about his metaphoric comments about my past musical preference.

It was a pleasant, shameful, and progressive self-reflection upon that comment. Pleasant, because I remember delightful memories from the past. Shameful, because I know at that time I had this very bitter, pessimistic, cynical, twisted, and FTW mentality. Progressive, because I have changed of which at the past moment thought I would not change or couldn't imagine myself to be, but still am. Many thoughts intermingled as the warmth of fire greeted me with luxury of comfort to reflect myself.

'Yes, I did quit that 'duck-music' for good', thought to myself with an inevitable smirk.

Sauna

Two sets of inclined bench press, then three sets of curl-ups. Four sets of butterfly, then six sets of triceps. Two more of each inclined bench press and curl-ups. Ten minutes of running with jogging intervals. Drank a bottle of gatorade throughout. Hit the showers then spa, warm to hot, then to cold. Finally, the sauna.

Two friends were fatigued. The workout has drained the last ounce of their energy as if age hadn't enough already, but not their friendship. They enjoyed each other's presence. Lying down in the steamy sauna, it was hard to make out what was in front of them.

A friend asked to the other, "What does it mean to be an idealist? Can it mean a fool without perception of reality?" The other friend acquiesced, "Romanticist would be a good synonym."

"Then what do you call an idealist who is capable enough to have his ideas put into reality, be able to have what others considered churlish propositions elusive of reality into practicality? Does it no longer mean that the person is an idealist because he became a realist by his action? It doesn't seem fair to idealists, and then only the realists will take credit for everything, while idealists will continue to be considered as fools."

The sauna was reheating the moist room with more steam. The sound resonating with heightened temperature.

The other friend replied, "No, I would call him a miracle-maker."

Each was briefly preoccupied by the thought, more so for the one who brought up the topic.
'Miracle-maker,' he thought. Having made the last response, the friend continued, "There aren't many in this world."

The steam was thick; heater turned off. Silence lingered and it was visible through the steam.

Finally one friend broke the silence, "Fuck, it's getting hot."
"It burns, it burns!" screamed the other as they got up closer to the ceiling on their way out.

Beyond Realization

I know that my time in this world is temporary. I find purpose not of this world, but in afterlife. But the ironic twist of this belief is that I have no clue as to what exactly awaits for me there. I've been given only a simple task to live this life with love for God, which to many seems foolish, and not so even clear as to how to do so myself. There are times when I am assured of my life's value in God, but in many other, I feel like I am deceived by my own justification to compensate the feeling of defeat in this world.

There's a comforting quote in the Bible that I can do anything through His grace. You can move the mountain with faith as little as mustard seed. I feel like a child again, full of dreams and wishes that are limited by none other. Yet, cynicism during the moments of my doubt elicits the greater fear of failure within me. Yes, at this moment, I may not see even the glimpse of what is capable to me through His grace, but what really is the boundary which can be surpassed with "mustard seed"? I feel better and more awakened by turning toward God. However, I feel like there's a link missing between me and His plans for me. Straightforwardly speaking, I am struggling to break out of bonds which have been blinding me from pursuing my true identity, duty, and happiness.

If I were to animate this phase of my life, it'd be a man chained to a tree on an island for so long. He has been budging continuously at times with futility, passion, hope, and despair which eventually broke the chain through incessant friction. There are vestiges of struggle in the chain as much as on his body, yet the initial escape has awakened him to pursue the greater freedom with enthusiasm. He does not belong in that island; he realized.

This is where I am. I tried looking for ships or planes. I tried writing on the beach. I've lit torches at night. I've lit fire to cause smoke. I've had dreams of myself just flying out of this island with celestial wings. Each time the initial enthusiasm abating. But the real danger is not the sense of being marooned; because I cannot be isolated when God is with me, although the world might think otherwise. I am afraid of becoming complacent in this island. I fear that I will learn to enjoy the emerald beach, the cool shades of exotic trees, and stability of peace in this island. And for all these, I am grateful nevertheless, but I will never come to appreciate to a greater extent than the boundaries here. There's nothing wrong with this choice of life, nor do I want to be judgmental of similar others. In fact, I can live a great life, a grateful and loving one, with God on this island. Also, it is not just my need to voraciously feed my curiosity to venture what lies before my eyes beyond this beautiful blue horizon. It is just that I cannot seem to extinguish the inextinguishable. This feeling, once again, that I do not belong here just cannot be blanketed. I've tried, but the more I try, I uncover just to see if it has disappeared; its presence more significantly defined ironically.

So the wise thing for me to do is to exploit the natural resources within this island, and build myself my own freedom. So much easier said than done. This is when the title of today's blog has its meaning. I realize what must be done. Beyond it, it requires belief and action. No one can come in to hand me a key to a boat. Because either God or I will not allow it; it's our relationship. So I know, but I'm tired. At this moment, I am not devising any plans or drawing any blueprints to the escape. Rather, I am sitting down on that beach even more dissuaded by the rain: only cogitating the plan.

Sigh~ (current status of deficiency in status quo)

It's been a while. I have kept myself occupied with relentless yearning for any improvement in the subject of studying, which will determine next four years of my academic experience; furthermore, it will surely influence my life to a greater extent. I have been diligent and persistent (never have I been to this extremity committed myself), yet this drudgery has failed me miserably. Come to think of it, I have never doubted myself as much as I have been these past couple days. I have never realized the fear of failure. I have never come to an acquiescence with my shortcomings. I consoled each time that it was the celestial method of maintaining humility, but without a glimpse of chance, even my condolence seemed pathetic.

Being too overwhelmed with my incapabilities to that of the inevitable obstacles, I boldly took two days off from my normal schedules.

Friday - After dinner, I didn't feel like doing anything. I skipped going to the gym and the study room. I laid on my bed, dully flipping through channels. The amusement was ephemeral, then sudden guilt of exposing myself to lack of creativity soon led me to another event. I was not fully convicted to go back to my studies, yet I decided to draw instead. Somehow, the art channel at 2 in the morning inspired me to vent off my stress in such fashion. So I turned off all my lights except the computer monitor displaying "Windows Media Player visual" with my favorite CD (Mika Nakashima) playing through my headset. I ended up with a piece called "Frustration" with water-colored pencils having dark backgrounds in uncertain patterns. Then in it, there is a person with flying hairs running away to nowhere (drawn distinctively with a red pen). Also there were irregular red lines all over the page with the intent of shaping a brain. In it, there are subliminal messages, "STUCK" and etc. It became 5 AM and I retired.

Saturday - I woke up at noon. Watched more TV programs, and dozed off on my sofa at 5 PM. Woke up from a nap(?) at half-past ten. Still angry, I refused to look at the study materials. Spent more time with idle box until I fell asleep.

Sunday - I got a blister on my lower lip. It was strange, because I knew I wasn't tired. Stress level starting to manifest, I was reminded of irritation. Going to church never seemed as hard as today, but it was something I have promised myself and to this date, it is probably the only successful new year's resolution, so I took resistant steps towards it. The gist of today's sermon was this, 'are our obedience, the impetus of selfish manipulation, or pure admiration for God?' I was, once again, appalled with my shortcoming. There were many times when I would vividly imagine my success and acclaim God's glory, but deep in my heart, I was more motivated by selfish desires, desire to let others know of my intellect, my success, my pride, my status, my integrity, my potential, and endless list of 'my ______ '. The truth of the matter is, I was keeping faithful of my religious practices and attitudes thinking that, despite others' ways of success, mine came from fidelity in God. After all, He is the infinite Giver of His capabilities for those who have definite faith in Him. I do not have even the slightest doubt about Him, but I became frail by the fact that perhaps I do not deserve His grace. Then it was today's message that had wakened me that I was just being manipulative.

So, I am at an impasse. I haven't the slightest idea of how I'm going to get past this phase. But what I came to conclude was that, my problems are insignificant compared to other matters of this world. I will just carry on with uncertainty of my success, but at least with certainty that I will not become ignominious at heart towards God, and also that my efforts will not fail Him, who wishes the best for me.


picture: http://www.google.co.kr/imglanding?q=frustration&um=1&hl=ko&newwindow=1&sa=N&tbs=isch:1&tbnid=Pg932K-7K4HM7M:&imgrefurl=http://www.robertomoretti.com/blog/&imgurl=http://farm1.static.flickr.com/119/296367267_b035d8f908.jpg&ei=sBWPTa3cJ4uIvgO-wIycDQ&zoom=1&w=500&h=333&iact=hc&oei=QBWPTdLQNIjevQPnqLyuDQ&page=13&tbnh=129&tbnw=194&start=175&ndsp=13&ved=1t:429,r:10,s:175&biw=1024&bih=612

엄마.

Edison had many questions which seemed impertinent at that moment. Nevertheless, he became as we all know.

"엄마, 왜 엄마는 엄마의 엄마를 엄마라고 부르는데, 왜 난 엄마의 엄마를 엄마라고
 부르지 못하는거야, 엄마?"

"야, 임마!"

Any guesses on what she will become?
Leave your answers on the comment box below.

Five Minutes in Life Will Suffice (dedicated to Susan)

She lit up her cigarette backward, "Fuck!". Convulsed by the terror of test being positive, she threw and lit up another one. Devastated by each second, she hesitated at the parking lot of municipal health clinic. She despised everything in her view, the old lady and the dog walking past her, amiable little girl licking her ice cream with her hand bolstered by her mom before crossing, people in their business attires talking over their cellulars, the warming sun and even the cool breeze, and etc. 

She never had difficulties with money, her parents were devote Christians, and she had many friends, although her parents admonished her from being close with them. She was smart, and also attractive; more reasons to believe she was better and could do better than others in life. She never tried her best though, or her best was restricted by her complacency and self-justification that she could do better whenever she wanted to. But her determination invariably fell short.

She knew way too much in her head than for her own good. She knew everything but never experienced the real core of themes in life. She was logical, but not practical. She knew by her head, but the conviction had never reached to her heart. She judged others and never found satisfaction in life even in her complacency.

Because of her dire situation at the given moment, she started to look back on her life. The darker past seemed to be highlighted by her hatred in life, now. After all, she could be waiting for her death sentence.

'Oh, how I wish I had never met that fucker. I knew he was an asshole... I should have been more careful not to get caught... I'm going to kill that bitch who embarrassed me by lambasting humiliation before everyone in the class... My life is messed up because my parents would never let me be... my father is too naive, that's why he got betrayed by his own friends... my mother too demanding... my brother, a total fuck-up who took away my parents from me... pastor was a sheer hypocrite...'

Filled with unbearable anger, her eyes reddened. "Why me, why the fuck me! Why...". People noticed her in the corner abruptly as she yelled and sobbed, but continued about their businesses.

Then, having vent out her anger, she took a deep breath. The video footage of her birth and her parents being strangely young celebrating in the small hospital room flashed through her mind. How happy they were even to tears holding her. She started to remember how she had, not only turned him down, but broke this guy's heart by purposely going out with his best friend for a dare between her friends. How she nightmarishly haunted this outcast in her class throughout high school years. Once, she had felt the hotness of her tear during her baptism. She was too weak now.

She sat on the curb carelessly, hopelessly, and helplessly. No more tears, but she had a face as if she had lived her capacity. As soon as she lit up another cigarette, one of the nurse came out calling out her name. She looked, and the nurse being polite as she could said, "You were supposed to wait in the waiting room. The doctor will see you now."

She didn't say a word. Her fingers failed the cigarette she was holding. Then she followed the nurse into the building.

...

As soon as she walked out of the sliding doors back into the parking lot, she loosened her composure and broke into quiet tears. The sun was still bright outside. She clasped her hands and as if she was given another chance; she closed her eyes tight. "Thank you, thank you, thank you...", she chanted incessantly. She got herself together and noticed the cigarette on the ground still lit. Last several minutes, she has been through so much. As she walked over to the littered cigarette, another girl came out behind her, crying violently. She froze, she stopped breathing, and she dared not to look back. She couldn't. She trembled surreptitiously and kept her eyes shut tight, as if the crying girl was a beast ready to devour her.

Whatever was cascading from her eyes was visible even just through her beastly roar. Fortunately, it seemed to fade away slowly. And slowly, she opened her eyes. But covered her mouth quickly. That could've been her, and she knew the poor girl would've given anything to be in her place now. She would. She wanted to get out of here as soon as possible, but she could only drudge her footsteps into the light.

Afterword: Shamelessly, I post this short-story. As I got up this afternoon, lighting my first cigarette of the day, I realized how fortunate I was. From my room window, I saw people working at a remodeling site. Whether they chose that life or by limitations of life that they are confined into such occupations, I do not intend on degrading their quality of life, rather I see how spoiled I am with abundance of resources to have more options in life. Then from these site constructors, I shifted by vividly imagining people in third-world countries living unanimously-agreed poorer quality of life. Then to people who are even more doomed. Then to people who are living in hellish penury and worse conditions of life. Being ebbed with my imaginations to the worst condition of life possible, I became more and more grateful each time. I became humble. What I realized was that I used to perpetually compare myself to someone "better" (in the sense of secular perspective), or at the least to someone with similar status. Then I put out the cigarette. About five minutes, this is all it took, to be grateful rather than becoming irritated by my life compared to "better" others. So I wrote this story.