√Čtudes

in English, by a striving non-native.
http://about.me/subinkim

January 25, 2013 at 2:57pm
0 notes

really loved the way your eyes were glittering as I say what I thought you want to hear but I did not mean to deceive you or lie to you at all I just knew that you are like me and I am now wondering if I can see those glitters ever again

April 8, 2012 at 12:20am
626 notes
Reblogged from anuglybeauty

Nothing makes a woman more beautiful than the belief that she is beautiful.

— (via anuglybeauty)

March 4, 2012 at 8:49pm
16 notes
Reblogged from lavika

Fashion is something barbarous, for it produces innovation without reason and imitation without benefit.

— George Santayana (via lavika)

December 17, 2011 at 4:05pm
2 notes

I tried my best to death to raise my grade but it didn’t work. Mom openly insulted me in front of my families. My feelings were hurt. It is utterly wrong to emphasize a specific way of education only in the society. Education which does not approve diversity is ought to be corrected. I no longer want to live in this world. I don’t want to be forced to do what I do not want to do. I want to leave this society that evaluates people by their grades. I want to be born again in the U.S. I’m going to meet Steve Jobs soon. [this was written weeks after Jobs’s departure] Mom and dad, let at least my brother do what he wants to do. Please do me this last favor: bury me with my iPod and my teddy bear.

— An excerpt from a will of 14 year old South Korean student who committed suicide in last October. (source: The Kyunghyang Sinmun, Korean)

December 12, 2011 at 12:37am
2 notes

crying in public

When was your last time crying in public? In our society/culture, especially for a male, crying in public often causes embarrassment to audience, and is considered as unmanly for performer. As a grown man we have to struggle with our own emotions to not be ashamed as I was when I was a sophomore.

It was during a literature class. The lecturer was a once promising poet of 80s in Korea, soon turned himself around to a private education market because of the hardship of his life, who used to talk about the dark side of the most famed writers to us. I do remember crystal clearly when he told us that the novelist Hwang Soon-won, the author of Shower, considered as one of the purest adolescent love story in the Korean literature history, once knocked over a gambling table on a picnic of writers for not being given a share of somebody’s winnings.

The lecturer usually gave us an assignment to write about what he assigns and at the next class he picked out a writing, which he thought it is remarkable, then asked the writer to read it aloud in front of the students. And the hero of the day was me.

I wrote about a departure from my high school dropout friends, whom I had used to practice playing guitar and get along with, after I had found out that I am not strong to go on as a high school dropout and to struggle against my parents’ will to get me into a college.

It was an evening in the cold winter. I was walking with my buddy, whose highest level of education stays still with his dropping out from a high school (and you’ve got to understand that this is a huge disadvantage in Korea, where the 80-odd percent of the students enter college), thinking of moving out from my house to go on with friends and wondering whether I can make it in this cold winter myself.

I used a humble metaphor of a crosswalk — and there was actually a crosswalk by which we used to split, since we were living in very different places. As usual we said a simple good-bye to each other — had I noticed that it was the last time it would not be that brief — and that was when we took apart.

Soon after I had have reached that paragraph, I couldn’t help myself gathering moisture in the corners of my eyes. Like laughter, tears were even further forceful as I tried harder to refrain. I literally cried, and had to be replaced by another student to finish reading my writing.

I don’t blame anyone for who I am now and what I’ve been through. I really do understand and have sympathy with my parents’ wish — just wondering whether my tears were inevitable, and does life have to be this complicated?