A Rather Belated Desk: Why I Chose a Teenager’s Scaffold at Thirty-Two to Bloom from the Very Shackles.

I am long past the age of teenage angst, and my twenties are a closed chapter—and now, I am orchestrating a complete uprooting, planning to cross the border next.

I have known how tentacles move and work, entrenching themselves as they bear down on my neck.

When I discovered the first place, it was my spiritual grave, making me blindly obsessed with preparing and researching my ideal new home.

However, their myriad stiff coils obstructed my path on numerous occasions.

Although we are looking at the tree, its age is much older than we thought; thus, its true identity cannot be easily determined.

In echoing the narrative of I Am Malala, I find my own reflections subjected to a similar brand of external judgment. Detractors might view my experiences through a critical lens, claiming that I am 'totally exaggerating,' 'wallowing in self-pity,' or that I 'should recognise how much more blessed I am compared to other classes.'

Admittedly, I grew up without any major financial difficulties until my early twenties. However, rather than visible violence, it is sometimes the most intricate spiderwebs that manipulate a person's life.

Living in South Korea, I lacked the opportunity to explore other countries during my youth. Although I attended a short-term language programme to learn English, it did not offer a profound understanding of foreign cultures. Moreover, nations such as Pakistan in South Asia were entirely outside my realm of interest, despite vague connections floating around my periphery.

As a teenager in my final year of school, I wrestled with severe dyslexia and depression. My transition into my early twenties saw this depression deepen, bringing further psychological and severe mental ailments to the surface, alongside a tic disorder. The resultant mental and neurological strain ultimately triggered tinnitus. While I have since undertaken the journey of self-healing and successfully overcome those psychological challenges on my own, the tinnitus remains an enduring, chronic condition that I still manage today.

To be honest, I didn't have much interest in academic study during my teenage years. I briefly prepared for the art university entrance exams for design, but due to my father's strict opposition, I had to give it up midway. I used to resent my dad, but now that I have something new I want to do, I don't really dwell on the past.

But one family can't show their entire history to the outside world. Ever since then, I have tended to argue adamantly with my father.

Having missed out on so much during my teens, I walked a bumpy road. I tried to 'achieve', but it felt like breaching the jaws of Sheol.

Pakistan serves as a pivotal gateway for international trade. Even if it is not fully utilised yet, future trade holds the potential to provide massive economic benefits. Knowing how to cut costs along this route is remarkably significant.

Geopolitically, South Korea faces a parallel future. One country needs to grow with its own possibility. So it will take time but, before surrendering my identity card, I had felt many things about how and how much this country can interact fully dynamically from the downside to the upside. For me, it was utterly maddening. Regardless of that issue, South Korea's society is strongly triggered by networking links when people are classified with the same school, last name, and living location even if they do not meet even once. That is the flint to spark the social issues in South Korea.

Violence is not limited to physical actions. Violence exists in words, actions, and even in implicit language. What differentiates humans from animals is the ability to signify images and words. Animals focus only on objective phenomena with highly evolved, sensitive adaptations. Once I realized how the control of information works, I could no longer accept living in this country. They were realities I simply could not bear.

'The repulsive links' have chased me using my behavioral logs. And they chased me anytime, anywhere, and in any nation I have been linked with. Reminding myself of my past, where I struggled in silence, helps me understand a brave little woman an eighth of the way around the world.

So, I chose to study the UK curriculum. Standard A-Levels were an option, but IAL (International A-Levels) was a better choice for me to balance with work. Its range was quite different from the normal secondary school curriculum where I lived.

An independent, deep approach makes me feel like a budding scientist. I needed a course that allowed me to be a home-educated student without joining a private tuition centre. The world beyond my immediate surroundings is fascinating, allowing me to gain a new perspective. And I will learn more of the 'way of thinking' found among nations that value strict and wise reasoning.

Actively extending altruistic benevolence without calculation—fully embracing the premise that no recompense will ever return—becomes an impossibility the moment someone invades my personal sanctuary and engages in boundless, parasitic imitation. That is the precise threshold where the self and the other morph into adversaries. When an intruder breaches your home to plunder, and relentlessly sabotages the very future you are painstakingly constructing, demanding that you extend unconditional goodwill is nothing short of preposterous. Deep down, wouldn't anyone harbor an inextinguishable resentment?

The instructor who once taught me used to scoff, claiming that due to my situational constraints in utilizing the school system, I would ultimately be unable to study abroad. Every time I attended classes related to that teacher, whenever I passed by, they would deliberately linger on the side to throw passive-aggressive, nitpicking remarks.

In another instance, I was tacitly deprived of a small stipend intended for research and activities by another teacher. While one might try to dismiss it as an insignificant sum, the sheer volume of accumulated grievances renders it an indelible scar that I will never truly forget.

Not only am I not a cheerleader for that school, but I also couldn't care less.

Consequently, once I advance to my next academic pursuit, I intend to expunge all prior educational history from my records, never to display them anywhere for the rest of my life, leaving only my final credential intact.

Recently, I watched 'Love for Sale (宇田川町で待っててよ。)', a film directed by Eiji Uchida (内田英治). I have a profound feeling it will become my absolute favorite cinema. The direction offered a stark confrontation with a bleak reality where individuals, rather than living with human dignity, willingly brave any hazard for the sake of monetary survival—forcing me to reflect deeply on the versions of ourselves we ultimately strive to become. Although the school the protagonist attended was prestigious, the piece masterfully captures the raw, unrefined vulnerability of those left with no choice but to survive under the shadow of society's underbelly.

On a personal note, Japanese education appears highly advanced; not only do they steer away from rote-learning systems, but they also go beyond adopting foreign educational frameworks to foster independent, critical thinking, possessing university-level training systems that are remarkably forward-thinking. Furthermore, the very act of acquiring their language uncovers a vast spectrum of nuances, fundamentally cultivating one's capacity to discern implicit meanings. While I am not yet deeply acquainted with Japanese society and culture, I cannot help but wonder if there are unrefined, dark corners hidden away from public view, much like the societal underbellies I have come to know in South Korea. Yet, what strikes me as peculiar is that contents exposing such underbellies seem to function as a form of documentary record, critically analyzing the phenomena of a society or its individuals. While some may impose unacceptable frames to exert power or keep others in check, certain contents appear to intentionally target the dark corners residing in an entirely different dimension of space.

Nevertheless, I still choose to pursue the IAL, which aligns with the British A-Level standard. For now, English remains the only foreign language I can navigate proficiently. Since it is not my mother tongue, it often eludes me in moments of sheer fluster. Yet, as is true with any language acquisition, one's ability to command a language ultimately expands in tandem with the depth and familiarity of one's own thoughts.

I anticipate that I will soon return with a sequel to this narrative.