Some weird shit. . .sick beat though.
Saturday, September 6, 2014
He had felt some trepidation at accepting the request. But as Waeg these days is more interested in earning credit in the straight world, he clicked yes. Besides, he was curious.
He remembered her from years past. Obviously intelligent, but lacking the will and focus that would give her the 0.2 points more necessary to earn a top spot for admission to SNU. When asked by her mom years back, Weag had not sugar coated the pill: she'd never be that top student getting into that top school. She was smart, but needed a more hands on engagement with life. Her parents responded somewhat uncharacteristically: they didn't send her overseas, or pay for a ringer at a top hogwon to pave her way through math and English into a top position. Instead, they seemed to take Waeg's advice to heart: they bought her a harp.
Waeg remembers it vividly: this monster of a musical instrument showing up, and the expensive lessons that followed. Soon, she no longer had time to take his lessons.
Fast forward ten years. She had gotten into one of the best music high schools, and then acceptance into an SNU music program. Waeg was not surprised, as her parents were loaded, and her mom only cared about grooming her to be the brood mare for a scion from another well to do family. That's the way things rolled pretty much everywhere when concerns for family are paramount. In her case, buy an instrument that is ridiculously expensive that no one else plays. Who the fuck plays the harp? Make the right amount of donations to the right people, and rejoice at being 'selected'.
But as he looked at her photos now, he wondered: why, despite the plastic surgery on an already attractive woman with impeccable social standing and background, did she look so. . . unsatisfied? Incomplete? Sad? Waeg writes despite knowing the answer to be obvious: she was always astute enough to know that following what adults told you in elementary and middle school is what is. . . but when faced with lessons on how to make valid decisions based in self understanding, elicited by top hogwon teachers to add verisimilitude to a good college essay, and realizing that the vague details represented have no substance and only serve to ghost an essay for admission . . . and during the process you see things you'd never seen about yourself, yet being told that engaging this train of thought should inspire anathema, since you must win, and you will, but still, it nags, since the persona the hogwon bunnies create is such a total fiction, and who exactly are you anyway? You've never gone out and lived and know only what has been prescribed since grade six, so really, you have no idea. . . the look in her eyes spoke that same old story in those photos.
Waeg laughs, as he knows she will lose the existential angst sooner rather than later. It's a moment that is usually quickly overcome, since family and friends will encourage her to revel in her success, in her plastic surgery, in the attention she'll receive from appropriate suitors. She had made it after all, so live the life that this entails. Yet from experience, Waeg knows it won't be enough. Later in life she'll either meet him or his ilk in some random dating app, and while it won't be good for either one of them, she actually may entertain for just a moment why she should raise her kids in the same manner. She'll tell her story which has been told many times before, blame society, blame her parents, blame the penicillin she takes to clear out that nasty infection she picked up from random Joe Kim taxi driver. She'll never know why she can't get over it, why she even thought it in the first place, but her daughter will marry someone higher on the social ladder, since well, that's how things are, and what they are meant to be. To think otherwise is foolish and blind. Till then, she'll keep herself safe and true, yet not knowing that she's exempt from earning: