If I Could Always Stand at the Border and Go Anywhere
A month ago, my plan for last weekend was to go to the Pentaport Rock Festival with a high school friend. I intended to go with my friend on Friday and alone on Sunday. Then I came across a book club meeting I wanted to attend, so I contacted my friend to cancel Friday's Pentaport plans. Thankfully, my friend readily agreed and suggested I could go to another festival instead. Sunday, I had to go even if it meant going alone. Summer without a rock festival is like a steamed bun without its filling, right? But I hadn't really listened to rock music much lately. I had tried listening to bands popular among young people these days, like BamBamTiger, Silica Gel, and HanRoro, but I didn't think they were really my taste. Actually, the one I really wanted to see on the Sunday lineup was Song Sohee. Last spring, while preparing to move, I listened to Not a Dream so much. I thought how wonderful it would be to hear that music in the vast Songdo Park. Then the Pentaport timetable came out. Around the time that timetable appeared, I had nearly passed out from the heat at Waterbomb with Eunji, so Song Sohee's performance time became my main concern. Why do sad premonitions never fail? It said Song Sohee would take the stage at the hottest time, noon. Giving up was easy. Between the fifteen-year-old Minseok who enjoyed a whole day at the Hangang Nanjido Park Rock Festival on just one can of cola, and the thirty-two-year-old Minseok who needs a week's rest after one day out, time had doubled.
So I gave up on Pentaport entirely and chose to rest at home. I worked from home on Friday, and on Saturday, I went to the salon for the first time in ages to get my hair done. After about four hours of getting a short perm, I came home, filled the bathtub with cold water, put on my swimsuit, and went in to splash around alone. Opening Instagram, it seemed like everyone was either at Pentaport or the Jeongdongjin Film Festival. Even though I felt so relaxed, cool, happy, and content, I somehow felt left behind. I got out of the cold water, ate a bunch of grapes, turned on the air conditioner, and lay down on the fluffy white blanket for a nap. After waking up, I opened Instagram again. People kept talking about Hyukoh performing "Tom Boy" under a gorgeous sunset as I scrolled through the stories. Meanwhile, influencers' summer clothing ads flickered by. After enjoying a blissful nap, I felt a bit off again. Not everything on Instagram was bad. I could read my coworkers' July reflections filled with their worries and leave affectionate comments. Feeling that complicated mix of emotions again, I lay back in the recliner and watched baseball. Our Jung-won hit his first career walk-off hit. The group chat with my baseball buddies, who watch games and text together, exploded. Even after the broadcast ended, I replayed that walk-off hit for a long time before falling asleep right there in the recliner.
I woke up at 4 a.m. Oh right, the evening check-in. I remembered the group assignment: since June, we've gathered daily at 6:30 a.m. via Zoom to read economics books, check off our daily to-do lists, and read economic articles. How could I have fallen asleep in the living room without doing the evening check-in? I immediately went to the study and sat down at my desk. (Luckily, the evening check-in deadline was 4:59 a.m.) After posting the evening check-in, I remembered the laundry I'd set to dry after last night's baseball game. Oh no… Luckily, the laundromat near my house is open 24 hours, so I should go while I remember. I trudged over carrying the laundry. While the dryer ran for thirty minutes, I took a walk in the park, feeling the early morning breeze. By the time the dryer finished, the sun had already risen. I returned home, put away the clothes and towels, and did my morning check-in homework. Then I fell asleep again (this time properly lying down on the bed in the bedroom). After sleeping in late, I got up, had a simple meal, and sat back down in the living room recliner. The book I'm reading this month is called ⟨The Great Demographic Shift⟩. It's by a right-wing American economist who discusses how population shifts and globalization have impacted current Western/developed economies, using numerous charts and complex language to argue that inflation is coming back soon. It's not the kind of book I'd normally read, but since we're reading it together for an economics group, and my team also has to prepare a presentation this month, I was reading it diligently and earnestly. Plus, since I have to give a 3-minute presentation at tomorrow's Monday morning meeting, I told myself I had to read diligently and kept at it. The air conditioning was cool, the Aori apples were delicious, and though the book was difficult, with Claude's help, I was getting through it and it was kind of interesting in its own way.
While reading, I got a bit bored and turned on my phone to find a new episode of Kangso Pod. This episode was titled "Will You Really Fail If You Don't Use Instagram?" It covered the three-month Instagram hiatus project by Small Boat and Logout Island, which I'd seen mentioned in a newsletter a few days ago. Since I first learned about Small Boat and Kangso Pod back in February through 'How to Live as the Master in the Digital World', it was only natural that this episode resonated deeply with me. After seeing my comment on Small Boat's guestbook featured in the newsletter, I happily listened to the entire episode. It made me want to join the Instagram hiatus too. Was it because I resonated so deeply with every word Kang Dan and So Shin shared on Kangso Pod? Or perhaps I'd been forcing myself to keep using Instagram, even though I didn't want to, because I felt I should? Their words seemed to say, 'If you just don't want to do it, you don't have to.'
As with most IT services, finding the way to delete my account was quite a hurdle. While I was at it, I deactivated both my Facebook and Instagram accounts. The account deactivation feature was hidden away in such a strange place that I doubt I could find it again if I tried now… Anyway, I deactivated the accounts. After doing it, I felt strangely refreshed, lighter, and in a better mood. I went to the Logout Island homepage, which is part of this project, and read the article, and it was so good that I just had to join in. (Even though no one actually asked me to.) (I also subscribed to the Logout Newsletter.) So I started the Instagram-Free Challenge. I'm not someone like the folks at Small Boat or Logout Island who need to reach subscribers for work, but I wondered what I might feel during the process. Would it actually be no big deal?
Wow, I'm free from Instagram! I was happily reading a book alone in the cool living room when Juha sent me a KakaoTalk message. "Hey~" she said, and then she and Jungwon came over to my place with coffee. I'd deleted Instagram and was trying to immerse myself in solitude in this quiet, peaceful house, but my friends wouldn't leave me alone. Well, it's a good thing. We drank coffee together, shared grapes, shared cookies, and then I told my friends.
> Me: "I deleted Instagram!"
> Joo-ha: "Why?"
> Me: "Just… there's this podcast I listen to… Small Boat… Kangso Pod…"
> Joo-ha: "I know! I saw the newsletter. You're doing a project without Instagram!?"
> Me: "Yeah, yeah. So I'm not doing it either!"
> Joo-ha: "Why??"
> Me: "Just… there's too much Instagram advertising… I never liked Instagram anyway…"
> Jung-won: "How long has it been?"
> Me: "Before you guys got here… I just deactivated my account… (sigh)"
> Joo-ha: "Oh… really? Well… let's see when your story pops up lololol"
Ugh… Everyone was looking at me like they were absolutely certain I'd be back on Instagram soon. Yeah, maybe they're right. I said I hated the ads and didn't want to see all the pointless stuff, but honestly, I just hate being left out when everyone else is having fun. It feels like I'm isolating myself, so I might just go back. But even when I'm home alone like this, friends come over to hang out, drink coffee, and have dinner. And even if I don't post this on my Instagram Story and tag Joo-ha and Jung-won, the fact remains that we had a fun Sunday afternoon, right? All the conversations we shared were meaningful and precious moments, right? That's what I thought.
Our conversation lasted five hours. We talked about all sorts of things, but what stuck with me was the discussion about whether my friends' spouse prayer beams or the counselor's spouse prayer beams would win out, lol. In Christianity, they say you pray for a good spouse, but somehow the image of 'Minseok's ideal spouse' that people around me wanted seemed completely different, which was funny. I feel like I don't belong on either side, stuck on this weird borderline. But this is a thought I've had for a long time. Standing on the borderline, I always felt like an outsider. So I was lonely, and whenever I found a place I could belong, I'd think, 'Finally, this is it!' and pour my whole heart into it. But while listening to the talk about fighting over the spouse prayer, a thought suddenly struck me: Huh, I'm the kind of person who can go anywhere from this border. I almost went to Penta, but stayed home instead, sat in the salon for four hours getting a perm, fell asleep watching baseball, soaking in cool water and enjoying my own private water park, reading a book by a right-wing American economist as if studying, then following the example of Small Boat and Logout Island folks and deleting Instagram, having friends come over for coffee and meals. Even if all these three days exist in a boundary that's hard to define anywhere or as anything, I just felt like I was going wherever I wanted. It was a thought that felt completely unorganized.
Anyway, it's only been three days since I deleted Instagram, and I plan to record how long I can sustain this. Will I end up writing a sentence starting with "I ended up reinstalling Instagram," or one starting with "It's been a month since I deleted Instagram"? I don't know~