College friends often start their tales with remarks like “Seasons change”, usually talking about the end of honeymoon phase or friends joining the military. Reviewing drafts from senior reporter Kim San, I found similar phrases such as “All good things come to an end” or “Experience loneliness as it is meant to be – alone.” These comments caught me off guard. Realizing I had experienced similar situations, I felt stirred to share it from hindsight.
As a freshman, I had no friends to talk to but my roommate. Just then, I found a strange refuge, the “town hall”, as we used to call it. The town hall was run by a friend, a so-called villager. Unlike most of us, the villager had no roommate and used dormitory 20, which we affectionately dubbed “Sangnam,” solo. Every day, our friends gathered at the town hall, just vibing and making fun of each other.
These were the glorious times: playing games until sunrise, enjoying fried chicken together, and hitting the gym. Everybody in our crew had a job: the villager, who provided us the space to gather at any hour; the bodybuilder, who shared fitness wisdom; the mediator, who settled any disagreements that arose; the Meyers-Briggs Type Indicator (MBTI) type J guy, who strategized plans that would maximize our enjoyment; the smart kid, who tackled assignments and taught us so that the crew could complete assignments quickly and spend more time playing.
When one friend chose to take a year off from POSTECH to pursue another dream, his decision started to go to some of our friend’s heads. Out of the seven members, three took a year off. As my circle of friendship is small, these guys leaving POSTECH had a significant impact on me in the sense that I now do not have a friend. These were the bad times.
Before they left, one friend stopped by to share his dream with me. His childhood dream, and still is, is to become a travel guide. As he explained his passion stems from a love of talking to new people and visiting places beyond Korea, I came into question, “What makes my heart beat?”
Visiting mountains in the winter and skiing were experiences that hit my heart hard. Although I have a mountain in my heart, I recognize that I cannot pursue my dream of being a professional Heli-skier. Fortunately, I am interested in computer science and find a certain amount of pleasure in it. I seem lucky to be in such circumstances.
Previously, I lived without much thought, making moderate efforts and not contemplating dreams. From now on, I will invest every bit of my mental effort and determination into my academic studies during the regular semesters. During the winter sessions, I plan to put every fiber of my mind and body into traveling and skiing, seeking work-life balance.
Even as I pen this column, it feels surreal to realize that two years have passed. The richest memories arise from simple, casual hangouts, which now seem to have unfolded merely moments ago. Time truly flies. Although these days were like a dream, as my favorite writer once said, no dream lasts forever, each dream is followed by another, and one should not cling to any particular dream. Farewell, Choi Woo-seop, Lee Geon-woo, Choi Sung-min, and every other former Postechians who made a brave and bold move to find their new dreams.
