Objectively speaking, was I perhaps a failed life?
In my living years, I have closed down four businesses.
The first closure was Ruach, back in 2016. The second closure was AirDesk; though I cannot recall the exact date, it must have been around 2019. The third closure was Flexweb, presumably around 2023. The fourth closure was Null Enterprise—just four days ago.
Through multiple business failures, the money I had earned vanished like melting snow, leaving behind a mountain of debt. It was unfamiliar and agonizing to go around borrowing money for urgent needs—something I had never done in my entire life—or getting accustomed to selling off personal belongings on secondhand apps. I felt victimized at times, yet at other times, I accepted it. A financial loss of several hundred million won was apparently more than enough to gauge the true coldness of this world.
With unpaid accounts receivable exceeding hundreds of millions, and contracts valued at over a billion won being delayed without rhyme or reason, losses accumulated by tens of millions every single month. It made me want to be liberated from absolutely everything. Liberated from living this tiresome life, and from those who called themselves "CEOs" yet were utterly loathsome in their inability to keep a single proper promise.
I possess connections and networks with figures who are far more powerful and prominent than what people generally expect of me. Whenever I occasionally share a glimpse of a drinking gathering or a photograph taken alongside them, everyone is invariably astonished. I worked with such people; I stayed in touch with chairmen and presidents of public enterprises, executives, construction company CEOs, film studio heads, and private equity professionals—my reach was truly vast. Yet, not a single bit of it brought me pride. Because every one of them seemed like monsters spawned by the financial system, failing or entirely unable to uphold a single decent commitment.
When you work alongside lobbyists, you realize precisely how frail they truly are. They have power? Whether their assets number in the tens of billions or hundreds of billions is completely irrelevant. In truth, celebrities or mega-YouTubers who enjoy greater freedom in managing actual cash flow are far better off. People react with extreme sensitivity to titles and authority, but the more you look into the actual substance of those positions and authority, the more unremarkable they prove to be.
There were many reasons why I wrapped up my businesses in Korea and departed for Singapore, but a major factor was my profound disappointment with Korea itself. There were very few CEOs in Korea worthy of respect. Those possessing genuine conviction could be counted on one hand. While I sincerely respect those select few, having to work with the vast majority who were not like them was an absolute torment. If they were CEOs who cared only for money, I would at least hope they were adept at earning it; however, the reality was that the vast majority of these business entities could not even turn a profit. Failing to earn even money, countless zombie companies emerge, pouring all their energy into selling off the firm or dragging in even more investment funds. Encountering the lobbyists who provide makeup services for these entities, I felt as though not a single shred of desire to live in this world remained within me.
What anchored my faltering sense of reality was, perhaps, a greater cause. To be perfectly honest, not a single trace of desire to live remained in my heart. I thought it would be far better to simply repay the borrowed money and depart from this world entirely. On one such day, a few people reached out and asked for my help. So, using the knowledge and strength I possessed, I occasionally helped them. It was not out of some grand sense of justice, but rather that by doing at least that, I managed to hold onto a sense of meaning in life. It served as a lifeline that caught me at the edge of the precipice.
In the past, during the days when my first company collapsed and AirDesk failed to materialize properly, I felt a monumental sense of despair. The recurring nature of that despair was horrifying. Planning, designing, and developing features that I believed to be excellent, only to watch the user base dwindle further upon updating. Even when conducting promotions, no one entered. When I went around to secure investment, the venture capitalists were entirely populated by fools who did not even comprehend what a Chrome browser was. The fact that individuals claiming to represent tech-based VCs and investment judges in the year 2017 did not even know what a Chrome browser was—that is the actual caliber of the investment market in this country.
Watching those individuals titled "investment judges" gluing their behinds to their office chairs and putting on an air of erudition, I frequently thought that the world operates not on competence, but merely flows according to circumstance. They possess zero expertise and hold absolutely no understanding of the market they intend to invest in. Merely fumbling around with it as a game of money, they thoughtlessly dumped funds into the real estate project financing (PF) market because it supposedly made money; and now, unable to get it back, they must be sweating blood in sheer panic. Is this not the karmic retribution of foolish men? It is a ghastly sight that such individuals lead the investment market, forcing young entrepreneurs to secure funds from them to run their businesses.
Perhaps starting around 2023, I began uploading to YouTube on occasion. With the sentiment of leaving behind a final record of my existence, I wanted to capture my story not in text, but in video format. It might have been akin to a suicide note. The first several dozen videos are the narrative of my life carrying over from the past. As I filmed those videos, there were individuals to whom I felt apologetic regarding that specific period, so I conveyed my apologies. I did so because I did not want to leave room for unnecessary misunderstandings.
I even considered selling off all my organs and departing this life. Yet, knowing it was an unpardonable act toward my parents, I could never summon the courage. Moreover, if they were to realize that the money was procured by selling my organs, the hearts of those receiving that money would hardly be at peace. Gratefully, even though I have lived as an utter failure of a human being, what kept me alive was not those individuals of immense authority. Rather, it was those who demanded absolutely nothing in return, cheering me on out of pure love.
These days, I make a conscious effort not to meet a single person of prominence. Instead, I am striving to spend even a fraction more time with my subscribers who listen to my story. I regret the time wasted over the past several years listening to the nonsense of those supposedly grand individuals. I squandered my life reifying their hollow words and delusions into reality. Happiness was not in some distant place, nor did my joy reside far away.
Concluding a ten-year journey of entrepreneurship, I have become a person with absolutely no titles. I belong to no organization, nor do I bear any mandatory responsibilities. Like a bluebird, I could fly away anywhere to live on, or I might choose to despair over a grim destiny and depart. Now, I have very few regrets left. In the past, I used to harbor regrets like these:
"If only I had handled that a bit more wisely." "If only I had rejected that transaction back then."
Passing beyond those utterly meaningless regrets, it feels as though I am in the process of reclaiming my primal self. The pleasure derived from fine clothes and cars, or being addressed as "CEO"—a title devoid of any real significance—no longer carries any weight. The office, the number of employees, or the revenue figures are no longer badges of pride. Occasionally, I see CEOs rejoicing over hitting revenue targets. I wish to congratulate them, yet on the other hand, I understand completely the unseen agony they must endure to achieve that revenue.
Experiencing failure, ironically, makes the destination I must head toward feel increasingly distinct. My heart has grown tranquil, and the anxiety has vanished.
To use a metaphor, it is as though some powerful force dragged me off a path I was wrongly walking and deposited me into a safe haven. I thought my body would be shattered to pieces falling from the heavens, but upon awakening, it felt as though I were lying upon plush, soft grass. I can see the people flying up into the sky, and I can witness the shambles of their struggle to climb the ladder. Covered in wounds, I feel as though I am merely lying on the ground, observing that very spectacle.
Though covered in dust from head to toe and my appearance is a total wreck, I trudge along a path that others do not take. It has been that way from the very beginning, and I suspect it will remain so in the future. Rather than chasing after what everyone else desires, if I walk in the exact opposite direction, might not something quite interesting unfold there as well? Living a life that has failed and fallen behind, I walk in the precise opposite direction of the success that everyone else covets.