It seems I'm the only active blogger lately. I'm not sure how many people are actually reading what I write, but I find blogging a surprisingly cathartic hobby. I find that I articulate my thoughts more clearly and coherently when I type; contrarily, I am quite unable to locate and phrase the appropriate words while clutching a pencil or pen. It is perplexing. That's probably why my past paper journals have failed miserably. Also, the fact that an internet blog is situated in such a vast forum of public cyberspace (a public yet intimately quarantined space of existence - isolated by its ridiculously vast environment and not by a dominating, opposing force) somehow appeals to me. I can't quite explain why or how the medium of the internet affects my writing, but I just know that it does. Not a very convincing argument I'm sure, but I'm working on it.
But anyway, I've been thinking a lot lately. No, nothing too serious or suicidal (although I guess it is pretty depressing) - but about society and contemporary culture and the weight of my existence upon the former (and perhaps also the latter). And the central inquiry of my idle contemplations is this: What effect does my existence have on the lives of others, whether it be of my friends, relatives, or even people with whom I am not acquainted?
My recent obsession with the Korean figure skater Yuna Kim has caused me to acknowledge my miserably marginalized existence. For I will never know this girl - she is too distant. The barrier between normal folk and celebrities is a torrential gap than cannot be forded in accordance to an individual's physical willpower - numerous social conditions must be met, and these we cannot handily manipulate. It is regrettable, truly and greatly. If I could just have one chance to truly know this distant being, who is currently, to me, nothing more than a tortuously unattainable, wholly desirable entity (a desire wrung from my entire being), it would be an enlightenment far beyond that of any natural form of encounter. For it would symbolize a rendezvous with the unknown, the impenetrable, the unfathomable - a closeup exploration of what cannot be rationalized or sought. But futility rings forth as I attempt to catch the smoke with my bare hands. Leave me with nothing but unsatisfied desires.
Curse my stupidity for perceiving thy vanity as innocence. But it is upon this stupidity I thrive.
김연아, 너를알고싶다.
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our rants are nothing but mere whispers in the torrent called the internet
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