It’s possible to feel like you're surrounded by people without actually meeting a single one. Group chats that look full of people. Online forums. In all of them, people hide in the shadows, staying connected only in a detached and observational way, never truly engaged.
I know this all too well. There were quite a few friends who read every single one of my posts without ever leaving a like. Chances are, they’re reading this one too. I see you. You don’t hit like, you don’t leave a comment, you don’t reach out. You just watch, silently, like a voyeur. And I let them be. Sometimes, they’d act all friendly, saying they’ve been following everything I’ve done. But sadly, I was never actually connected to them. They only thought they were connected to me—an illusion they created just by watching.
It doesn't make sense, if you think about it. How could there be a relationship when one side only watches and never reveals themselves? I'm not criticizing people for watching. I'm criticizing those who watch and then claim connection. What’s so scary about stepping forward? Saying, “I support you. I hope things go well. Hang in there. You’ve worked hard.” Is it really that difficult to click one like to show solidarity? I just can’t understand it. Maybe we’re both human, but we’re operating on entirely different frequencies.
I document my life. As I’ve said many times before, these writings have a purpose. Is it to brag? Is it to indulge in some kind of “suffering porn”? No. Since long ago, I’ve wanted to hear the stories of lonely entrepreneurs who were going through what I was. But no great entrepreneur ever really recorded or shared what those early, painful steps were like. Most only start telling their stories after they’ve “made it,” spinning them into heavily edited and dramatized tales. Can you really trust those stories?
That’s why I’ve kept writing. My first post was from when I was working part-time at a PC cafe. I wrote it while friends with the same engineering degree from Hanyang University were getting jobs at top companies. Is that brag-worthy? Does that look like showing off? I had jaw surgery so intense that my face swelled beyond recognition, covered in bruises and scars. I had it done right before rebooting my company and just weeks before shooting my first ever online course. Is that a story that helps my reputation? No. It’s just the truth. A record of the pain and reality I faced.
People are so rarely honest or sincere about life. I don’t care if people voyeuristically observe my life, but the way you treat your own life reflects onto others. I’ve held tightly onto my life, refusing to let it go. But there were moments when I wanted to give up, when my strength ran out. At those times, I looked back on the traces of my journey—the memories, courage, and emotions—and they gave me strength again. Even if I seem pathetic now, the struggle it took to get here is too precious to ignore.
Whether someone sees this as mere content or uses it as a mirror to reflect on their own life—that’s up to the reader. I don’t care how people consume my story. But I do hope they don’t fool themselves into thinking we’re connected when we’re not. I don’t know you. And though I recognize a few of you who watch in secret, I have no interest in you. If all you do is hide in your hole and peek out like a mouse watching a cat, afraid to speak—then that’s your way of living. I understand. And I feel sorry for you.
We call this the hyper-connected era. Because we’re all linked by the internet, right? But the truth is the opposite. It’s not hyper-connected—it’s hyper-disconnected. The crisis of our age is that we can live completely severed from even those closest to us. We don’t know who our neighbors are. We don’t even know when someone living 15 meters away dies. We're so connected, we’ve become totally out of touch.
I try to live face-to-face. I say things as I would in person, and I write as if anyone in the world could read it—because they can. If I write something in my room, it should still stand proudly under public scrutiny. Cowardice born from shame will always lead you to hide. I refuse to live hidden away. So many people live in the shadows of anonymity, lashing out with unresolved rage. That’s a curse they carry. If they interpret me through their narrow lens, they completely misunderstand me. I’m not writing for views. I’m documenting the journey toward a goal I’ve yet to reach. If I wanted views and ads, wouldn’t I have used flashy photos, bold highlights, catchy links, and clickbait headlines?
I’m achieving exactly what I set out to do. And along the way, I dream of connection. The kind of connection I want is with people who, like me, are struggling through tough times. Not those drunk on success, nor those aimlessly drifting through life without gratitude. The people I want to connect with have always been clear to me. And I live with precision to reach them. My small but steady actions stack like bricks. And the ones I seek do the same. Even if the goal is far off. Even if no one acknowledges them. They’re the ones placing a brick today to get closer to that dream. That’s the connection I dream of. As for connection with unremarkable lives? I’m not interested.