고립은 담금질이다

635화. 대한민국 출산혁명

by 가매기삼거리에서

Jul 18. 2025

나는 생애 세 번 고립되었다.

견뎠고 단련되었다.

● 지옥 셋

1.18세. 1979년. 블랙아웃

원주시 2등 재원이 최하위 대학 진학.

자괴감에 스스로 고립.

교훈: 목표를 세워라. 아니면 날개없이 추락한다.

2.21세. 1982년. 납치

저항마저 할 수 없는 수치심에 전두환 사살 후 자살하기로.

사회, 군에서 고립.

교훈: 어떻든 살아남아라.

3.45세. 2006년. 파산

모든 걸 걸었고 다 잃었다.

이후 10년 친구들과 완전 단절.

교훈: 순풍을 타라.

● 천국

지옥 밖은 다 천국이다.

64세. 2025년

목하 출산혁명 중.

국민과 세계을 고립으로부터 구원한다.

혁명가, 사상가, 철학가

작가, 시인, 그리고 자유인.

한 마디로 니체의 초인이 되었다.

3 Hells

I have walked into both hell and heaven—by my own will.

Now I see—Hell forged me into steel.

● Hell

1. At the age of 18, in 1979—Blackout

I chose night college on my own. The city’s No.2 student entered the lowest-ranked university.

And then, I volunteered to work at the bottom of a coal mine.

The day I arrived at the mining village, the whole world was black—just like me. Through the train window, the rain looked like a ragged old cloth—but at least it still had a trace of romance. As I stepped off the train, the dreary drizzle fell quietly, and the sky, tightly hemmed in by mountains on all sides, filled my eyes with a deep, heavy gray. I walked on, shoulder to the rain, step by step, as if stabbing an awl into the coal-black mud—thickened by coal dust, rainwater, and the countless footsteps of miners. Both feet, black. Beside the road, the stream flowed thick with coal washed down from the mines—inky and rushing. That day, the next, and the day after, the mines rejected me again and again. Even the pit—the despair and final hope of those who’ve hit rock bottom—refused to take me in.

Blackout.

Lesson: Set a Goal—or I will fall with no wings again.

2. At 20, in 1981—Abduction

One day, without warning, I was abducted by a military dictatorship. Too ashamed to live, too angry to forgive, I resolved to kill the dictator-president—and then end my own life. It was the first and last time my free will was stripped by the coercive power of the state. It was a blatant violation of law. After a brutal group beating, I was hospitalized and spent two months recovering.

I survived—and more than that, I was prepared to risk my life to completely eliminate murderous beatings in my platoon. It was a time of upheaval, and resistance came hard and heavy. I succeeded—and made another dream come true: to make our barracks a place of joy during free time. At first, the sudden freedom confused everyone. But after three months, it became our new normal. During free time, most soldiers immersed in games of Go and Korean chess. The youngest private offered quiet guidance as a Go master with his hands behind his back. The platoon leader bought a Go book and studied, guided by that same private. Other soldiers read, wrote letters, talked. Hell turned into heaven. Such freedom had been unthinkable before. Our platoon finally became the only blend of military discipline and brotherhood. That was what a true army should be, and what “the real soldier” in the songs truly meant. Then came a crisis. A new platoon leader, under the pretext of “restoring discipline,” personally beat every soldier with a club—though none had done anything wrong. What I had built with justice and sacrifice fell apart in a single moment. I didn’t back down—I stood my ground, even if it meant ending up in a military prison. One week later, peace returned. The platoon stood by me—not by order, but from the heart.

Daily beatings, often leading to murder or suicide, were rooted in 38 years of brutal military tradition. No one had ever challenged it. These violent customs were not random—they were systemic. The military's promotion system rewarded loyalty to brutality, not integrity. At the top were generals and an illegal dictator. When deaths occurred, the truth was always buried. Soldiers, beaten into silence, could not speak even when they wanted to. I turned the hell into the heaven. I was the first to do so since the founding of the army. Six of the abducted college freshmen died—labeled “suspicious deaths.” But I know the truth. They died in my place. Today, the National Assembly has legislated an investigation. The state now compensates the victims.

I detail the full story in my book, The Abduction of 109 College Freshmen, in the chapter titled The Real Soldier.

Lesson: Survive—no matter what.

3. At 45, in 2006—Bankruptcy

In 2000, I decided to launch a new business model for internet-driven distribution. For a year prior, four of us co-founders prepared together, completing it. After thorough business analysis, I already knew: The odds were clear—a 1% chance of success, a 99% chance of failure. Still, I took the risk because the fear of regret outweighed the fear of failure. I believed it was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. It wasn’t just a gamble—it was an all-in bet on my life. Even if I failed, I’d still be in my 40s, with enough time to rise again. The hope of making a comeback was my last stronghold.

Six years later,

In 2006, I finally failed with the venture. A Chinese restaurant. Jajangmyeon. The cheapest and most common meal. 3,000-won. I gazed at three 1,000-won bills, flipping them one by one. Even this—I might not be able to afford. In our beat-up old car on the way to school, my younger son asks me again and again: “Dad, do I have to transfer schools?” He sensed the bankruptcy coming. He’d seen enough dramas to know what happens next. My older son is about to enter middle school. If I entered debt settlement, the whole family would have been out on the street. Sixteen years ago, I gave up my successful life in Seoul and moved back to my hometown to take care of my mother. By then, I couldn’t even do that. Okay, this is it. I’ve done all I can. No regrets. I couldn’t sacrifice my family. There will be another chance. Let’s start again—from rock bottom. I was left with $1 million in debt, including interest.