People in Masks

People in masks

Konni Kim

Faces are covered, but they don’t warn each other

Of what is to come, they just simply become

Unattached from the bone, the chorus is telling

Us to come home, but the night is so young and

it ‘s safer out here, it’s divided by fear

But when people are scared, of life more than death

Of him more than her, of them more than I

Then what is the use, they beg to let loose 

Point the finger, you lose 

Because they’re human too

#Corona

Copyright, all rights reserved.

Obsessed with words?

I love words.

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(not only powerful but delicious too)

I always have. I think it’s one of those unknowingly abiding relationships that sort of just linger in your peripheral vision until you suddenly realize how deeply and profoundly you’re in love the subject, whether it be a family member or dancing or music(like in EVERY cliche young adult drama). For me I think it’s words.

When you look up ‘love of words’ on Google, you get-

“logophile”: someone who loves the correct usage of various words in communication

“dictophile”: someone who loves dictionaries

-neither of which even begin to describe me at all.

Firstly, I don’t think a ‘correct usage’ or words exists (although of course it depends on the situation-we wouldn’t want Dante’s ambiguity on an FTA paper), at least not in every single context. When I write I like to think I’m creating something genuine that conceives a certain feeling, not that I’m just using my keyboard as a means to transmit knowledge or information. Sometimes it’s like art, where rules exist to be broken and familiarity exists to be crushed. A single, ‘misplaced’ word can make a huge difference in how a reader interprets the whole passage, regardless of it not being ‘appropriate’ in its place. Nuance can be everything, or it can be nothing. Easily put, I’d rather have my word choices be grammatically incorrect than essentially insufficient.

Secondly, I don’t love dictionaries and never have.

And it’s not that I’m obsessed with vocabulary; I despise having to memorize words for exams. I just love how each word tastes on the tip of my tongue, or the way it looks carelessly scribbled in a sentence on a used page in a notebook, or simply the unique sensation each word gives me. I love words. I feel like every word has its own identity (obviously) and I want to be able to really feel it and control it in my writing. I want to make something that raw; I want every single word in what I write to reflect me and imply my thoughts or feelings, so that when I sit back and read what I’ve written I can relive each moment my mind was experiencing at that time.

I’ve been told that I don’t seem to be afraid to write, since when I was working on essays for university applications, I would just come up with all these different (mostly useless) ideas and immediately turn them into drafts on paper to see if each one would work out. It’s one of the (personally) best compliments I’ve gotten, and I can confidently say that I’m much prouder of the fact that I’m fearless as a writer than any kind compliment that I’ve ever received on the quality or content of my writing.

Having been identified as the ‘cautious’, ‘calculating’ one in the family for most of my life (compared to my sister who is always just head-first in anything she does), I feel like playing with words has granted me a new ego that reflects the audaciousness I’ve always envied in other people.

To finish up my sudden blast of random thoughts on how much I love words and writing, I leave you with my favorite quote of all time, from Ender’s Game by Orson Scott Card.

“In the moment when I truly understand my enemy, understand him well enough to defeat him, then in that very moment I also love him. I think it’s impossible to really understand somebody, what they want, what they believe, and not love them the way they love themselves. And then, in that very moment when I love them…. I destroy them.”

  1. This perfectly describes me, and human nature in general, in that intimacy/familiarity with a person or a certain object brings about love/attachment. The more I know, the more I (often times dysfunctionally) like. (i.e. how I am still obsessed with my old broken smartphone and refuse to dispose of it and buy a new one.)  (i.e. basically every love/hate relationship.)
  2. Does this have anything to do with my destroying grammar…?!

image creds: thewordchef.com

Talking to Korean fashion people in a cafe: An honest look inside the newly arising fashion scene

I take a few deep breaths and inhale the sugary warmth of the two-story Gangnam Pascucci cafe. Pulse throbbing in my ear, heartbeat racing through me, I sit in front of four models, two stylists, and a photographer. In my head I’m repeating my all-time mantra(which has never worked but I still do it anyways); keep cool, keepcool, keepcool oh forgodssakekeepcool! I have never really been a cool-looking, laid back person (type A humans I feel ya), and the situation of having these seven gorgeous, successful human beings before me, within two meters of my vicinity, is making my cheeks flush a deeper, embarrassing shade of vermillion-crimson.

And hey, no judging – being a fashion blogger doesn’t mean I don’t still get overexcited and nervous whenever I meet awesome, influential (and not to mention- major heartthrob material) people! Plus, these people aren’t your average fashionistas, they’re the new bomb of Korean fashion, and they’re already impressing people all over the country with their independent photoshoots, individual styles, and penetrating insights on the industry.

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Meet the emerging heroes of the Korean fashion scene, the popular Korean fashion group, Alexandergrupe. Continue reading

I’m a coward. There, I said it. (My passive-aggressive tribute to 2014)

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(Me in Jeju Island for the first time. This year.)

I’m a coward. Honestly, truly, I am terrified of life. It gives me the chills to think that in a year I’ll lawfully be an adult. It scares me that I may or may not get married someday. I am frightened of becoming attached to things or people. It scares me that I know I am scared and yet I am not doing anything about it.

What’s stupid is that I’d always thought I was the strongest person in the world. I just knew I would succeed. I knew I was clever, driven, and assertive, and I was confident that I had the ability to ‘make a dent in the world’, as Steve Jobs stated. The word ‘coward’ never really came to mind when I was referring to myself, even while I was thinking my deepest, darkest thoughts.

Over the span of a year, it’s shocking, almost bloody brilliant even, how my perception of myself has changed. It’s kind of like the feeling you get when you look back at an old photo of you back in the day and you get that rush of nostalgia whooshing up your throat, threatening to seep out through your eyes as tears? Well, that’s how I feel about the past year, 2014(of course, there is no need to state ‘2014’ specifically again, but I feel like simply calling it the ‘past year’ isn’t enough; like we need to establish and state some sort of concrete, serious name for this chunk of time that has come and utterly rooted up my previous self-image). After all, it’s the year I’ve realized how much of a freaking coward I can be.

I realize that I didn’t act all dismissing and condescending about love because I’ve never felt it before. Of course I have. Everyone has experienced love in whatever form, at whatever time in their lives, but I always gave this sort of I’m-superior-because-I-don’t-care-for-petty-emotions-like-that sideways smirk(which has kind of stuck to my face as a default expression now) and said, in the chicest, most nonchalant way possible, ‘I don’t believe in love’ because I was scared of it. Because I know, deep inside, that I can so casually and obliviously slip up and become attached to someone who may not love me as much as I love them. I was avoiding the issue altogether, like a coward. I know that once I get quite close to a person, falling into them is as easy as getting someone to agree that Beyonce is definitely, without doubt, queen of pop(aka easy-peasy).

These days I’m especially terrified of the future. Well, my future, to be exact. I (or at least I feel like I have) have experienced so many miserable failures(what happened to getting a boyfriend? what happened to getting better at Spanish? what happened to getting better grades? seriously though, what is up with these grades? WHAT. HAPPENED. KONNI.) in 2014 that I could write a whole, hardcover, at least two hundred page book on how to fall and smack your ass hard on the ground called life. I know this is getting repetitive and possibly a little obsessive-addictive creepy but I can’t help but keep asking my inner, shriveled self- WHAT HAPPENED??? I used to be the girl with all the fierce attitude of the whole room, sucking out the patience in people until they finally got tired(physically and mentally) of me and told me to shut up and go chill or something, the girl who would obviously be voted ‘Most likely to succeed (and break her neck trying because she just cannot stop being so obnoxiously enthusiastic)’; now I feel like I’m just a shadow of that girl. Right now I don’t feel ready to take on the world at all. Now I’ve become obnoxiously anxious of my future, although of course I don’t really show it, I just think it in my head. I’ve got a year left until I get sucked into society as a (*ooh*) ‘grown-up’ but let’s face it: I AM NOT GROWN, UP, DOWN, RIGHT, OR LEFT. I feel like I’m back to the start of the monopoly board because bloody 2014 came and gave me that red card thingy that has instructions on it that tell you to go back to ‘START’.

And the problem here is, when I’m scared, I somehow get petrified, as if someone came and shot me with a stun-gun. I collapse under fear. I cease to think rationally. Like right now. I’m barely thinking about what’s coming out of my brain and onto this laptop screen, but here I am, writing my thoughts out (although it may actually be a good thing since this post will probably turn out to be one of my most raw, honest ones). One thing I do know now, though, is that I really need to pick myself up and make sure that all this was worth it. Since I can’t change what has already happened in the gloomy, swamp-like depths of 2014, I inevitably owe it to myself to at least make sure that it was all worth it somehow; that it was all for ‘something bigger’.

So basically, since 2014 has upper-cut me in the face so many times, I just have one wish for the new year. That I improve myself and get to a happier place.

2015, don’t expect me to play along like last time. It’s MY turn now.

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(P.S: Also, when in doubt, eat.)

Goodbye, 2014.

Things I realized from being brutally honest with myself

Writing has always entertained me, in one way or another. A fun, relaxing, magical thing. My parents always encourage me to write things out, whether it be a personal diary entry full of my feelings, or a professional article on my stance on a current issue. Because of this (maybe ‘nurtured’)affinity toward writing, I think that when I write, I see a true reflection of myself in the most honest way possible.

It’s when I’m sitting alone in front of my laptop with a cup of coffee, in an old cafe(which is what I’m doing right at this very moment) that I can pluck up the courage to connect with myself. When I say ‘connect with myself’ I don’t mean some superstitious voodoo business; I mean actually acknowledge myself for what I’ve become.

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It’s really not as easy as it sounds, you know, acknowledging yourself for what you are. Of course, once in a while we all whine about how we’re so doomed because we procrastinate endlessly, or we rant on about how we eat too much and sleep too much(or too little, in my case. Sleep, I mean.) But have we actually journeyed further than that? I doubt it. We never really get to step beyond the comfort zones of our smartphones and casual social media binging.

We’re at the point where it seems taboo to question the most fundamental things. Try asking a random basic ‘philosophical’ question to a friend. It will probably make them(most people I’ve tried it on have, anyways) almost instinctively try to lighten the awkwardness of how fundamental and ‘deep’ your question was by joking around or seeming clearly uncomfortable with how ‘pretentious’ you sound by asking such a thoughtful question instead of commenting on the latest hot topic or something. Considering this situation, the only way we seem to be realistically evaluating ourselves is through our selfies. Which I think is really bad, since selfies don’t even begin to scratch the surface of who we are at all. Whenever I take a selfie I feel like I’m deluding myself by filling up my empty spots with the shallow satisfaction of how I look(not that I think I look fabulous…but you get what I mean in general) and establishing my existence by posting them on Facebook, rather than actually taking the time to get to know my inner self.

Today I had a lot of time to kill on my hands since finals ended last week and I was alone for most of the day, so I decided to stop and take a break from mourning over my horrendous finals scores and sending my friends memes on Facebook and just be alone for a while. To get off social media and stop worrying about what other people are gonna think of me(or whether they’re thinking of me, *cough cough* hot guy on the third row in chemistry class) and just devote a chunk of time solely to myself. It’s harder said than done. It can actually be quite frightening to some people, and I understand that. For some of us, being alone with our thoughts can be harder than facing a room full of a thousand people, especially in today’s world. I admit-hitting the ‘deactivate’ button on Facebook was a big decision, my index finger was trembling as I hit the button that would segregate me from the world and disconnect me from my primary source of self-worth, but I survived it like a warrior. Okay, that was exaggerated. But still, it was hard.

I sat in a cafe, ordered my usual green tea latte, and basically I just…sat for hours, writing out things on my mind, sipping latte and listening to Christmas carols(only 4 days left now!), and thinking about things I usually don’t have the time to think about. I’ve been sitting here in the corner of this cafe for hours now and I’ve come up with some thoughts at least remotely worthy enough to put down on paper, or, on my laptop screen.

Being brutally honest with myself for once, firstly, I realized that I was stopping myself from becoming more successful in life. To be exact, my arrogance was barring me from advancing in so many areas of my life. I had never realized it before because a) I always seemed to have more urgent things to think about and b) I was too afraid to face my flaws in the face BECAUSE OF my arrogance(a vicious cycle..arrgg) in the If I had continued on with my life unaware of this

Secondly, I realized that I am being very weak right now. Finals finally ended last week and school is about to let out in a few days; obviously it would be an understatement to say that I’m a little over the moon and therefore am a little in the partay-all-day-whoop-whoop mood but I’m going to have to go to university next year and I.NEED.TO.GET.UP. I am being lazy. I’ve been in denial about this for a week now but now I must get myself together and STOP ILLEGALLY BINGE-WATCHING ‘MY MAD FAT DIARY’. Seriously. Procrastination isn’t cool anymore-has anyone else ever felt the sickening feeling of being left behind when everyone else seems to be moving forward in life and living out their dreams step by step?

Thirdly, I realized that I’m not that attractive. I’m not saying this to be degrading toward myself or try to earn your sympathy. I just feel like I should acknowledge reality.

Finally, I realized that I should be more honest with not only myself but also with others in my life. A few white lies here and there are acceptable, but mainly I need to have honest, genuine bonds with the people around me that I love. From now on, it’s going to be either a true relationship where I don’t have to act superficial, or no relationship.

Whew, this one was really emotional and long and personal.

The story of how I fell asleep and missed my interview with Pixie Lott

Hey readers,

I feel like, because it’s hard to find an avid fashion blogger my age in Korea, lots of people tend to think I must be an incredibly amazing blogger. The thing is, whether I’m interviewing America’s Next Top Model models, hosting collaboration projects, or talking to magazine editors, I slip up a lot. And I mean A LOT.

For example, the other day I was supposed to be interviewing Pixie Lott, but I FELL ASLEEP AND MISSED IT.

Yep, you read that correctly. I just literally could not attend the online webinar BECAUSE I WAS FRIGGIN SLEEPING. IN MY BED. And this is THE PIXIE LOTT we’re talking ’bout here.

So here’s what happened. Recently I found a blogger community newsletter in my heap of emails. There was a link to attend the online Q&A session with Pixie Lott, hosted by the brand Magnitone. Of course, being a Pixie Lott fan, I applied. As I waited in anxiety and anticipation, I received an email informing me that I’d made it; that I’d been chosen to participate in the exclusive live webinar session with Pixie Lott. At that point I could practically imagine the looks of utter shock and admiration on people’s faces when they found out about it. Tingling with excitement, I posted this on facebook.

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And people were in awe, as I’d expected.

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I was too busy basking in the glory of being the first person among my friends to be able to exclusively interview someone as famous as Pixie Lott, that at first I did not realize that the Q&A session was in three hours. I was probably the last person put on the list.

I honestly freaked out when I read the words ‘Reminder: the exclusive Q&A session with Pixie Lott is in three hours(4AM)!’ in my business inbox. I’d been studying at school until 10PM that day, I was tired, I needed a shower and a nice few hours of sound sleep. A short internal conflict occurred in my head-should I stay up until 4AM and talk to Pixie Lott, or should I just forget it and get some sleep? After a split second, I decided that the former would definitely have to happen, because, who knows, this could be my big break, right? You never know in the blogging world.

So I drank my coffee, washed my face, and sat at my desk to prepare myself for the painful three hours of cruel, wearisome waiting in anticipation and irritation from severe sleep deprivation that were to come. I did everything to keep myself awake. After all, I couldn’t let my readers(you guys) down, and my friends were counting on me to nail this Q&A session and tell them all about it.

AND THEN guess what I did. I got a little drowsy, so I thought, ‘just 5 minutes…yes…I’ll just close my eyes for just, just…5 minutes’, and then I WENT TO MY BED. Now there’s one thing you need to know about my bed-it’s the coziest, softest, most sleep-inducing patch of space on planet Earth. It’s truly a fine bed. And as I lay down, I kept telling myself, ‘Everything will be fine… I’m sure I’ll get up before 4…’ BUT NO.

NO, NO, NO. JUST. NO. I DID NOT get up before 4. In fact I did not get up at all until the clock struck 7:10 AM. I opened my eyes, got straight up, stared at the clock, rubbed my eyes, then stared some more. The clock definitely said 7:10. I panicked for a while, even thinking, ‘well..well…maybe the webinar isn’t over! Maybe I’ll still get to talk to Pixie…’ But I regained my logical thinking skills, muttered some bad language about how I was such an idiot(WHICH I WAS), and went back to bed, because, you know, maybe it was just a big bad dream(which it wasn’t).

And that’s my story of how I almost, just almost, interviewed Pixie Lott. My friends were totally bummed when I told them, of course. My mother just laughed at me. I was mad at myself for a while but then, oh well.

This post was supposed to be about my almost-happened interview with Pixie Lott, but since it didn’t happen, here’s my reflection on the whole situation.

Thinking back now, firstly, I’m beginning to realize it’s not that big of a deal. #YOLO. Just kidding. That hashtag is overused. But seriously though, take that in for a moment-You Only Live Once. If I only live once, I wanna make mistakes, especially while I’m still young. I’m only human. There’s no point dwelling on the past and getting angry all over again. It’s a waste of precious time. Secondly, while I do need to forgive myself and move on, I also need to learn from my mistakes. Me missing the interview chance was totally my fault. I cannot blame anyone else for it since it was just the result of me being an idiot. Blogging and tackling school work all at once is turning out to be harder than I thought, and I do struggle. However, since I made the conscious choice to continue on with my blogging career, I need to start being more responsible for it. I need to improve my time management, primarily.

I also need to focus on the essence of my blogging. I always told myself that I didn’t want to be the type of fashion blogger that just posts photos of Chanel and Givenchy, accepting unhealthy fashion ideals and passing selling them on to the public as if those standards are the ultimate rules of fashion, conforming to trends without critical thinking. However, these days I often find myself thirsty for opportunities with famous, popular people that might give me my ‘big break’. It’s ridiculous, I know. I need to focus on my writing; my posts, which express my true colours and insights, and stop floating above my conscience, swimming on the edge of glamour and undeserved fame. This is my confession and promise to you guys that from now on I’ll remind myself each day of why I’m staying up this late(or NOT staying up, in the case of how my Pixie Lott interview went down, haha) and take myself to the beginning whenever I feel like I’m becoming too obsessed with the shallow glittery stuff. Because I believe I can make a positive change and contribute to the development of self-expression.

I love you guys. Thank you.

The friend that looks amazing in her soccer uniform and sneakers

Hey readers,

The time has finally come for me to show you guys the photos I’ve been taking with the new camera that my friend Jen lent me.

I took loads of photos of my friend Jiyeon. She has a unique look, an interesting sense of style, and an easygoing attitude, so she makes the perfect model to work with. The sunlight was just perfect when we were taking these photos.

So this is what we managed to create after about two hours of light bickering and fooling around with the camera(which was a Canon DSLR, by the way).

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The one above is my personal favorite. It was hard to get the right angle though.

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“Why are they always telling me to sit?”

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I love photos of natural, honest moments, like the one above.

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Thanks : ) Don’t forget to leave a comment!

I don’t want to grow up because…

Hey readers,

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(Two years ago-me being a silly 15 year old in New York! One of the happiest memories of my life. It was the first time I had ever visited the US, and I was with my best friend. I love this photo because I look so naive and incredibly happy.)

Lots of changes are being made in my life these days. At school, aside from the usual schoolwork, I now have to start writing college applications for next year and I must also take several exams, again, for college. And then outside of school I have this whole other world of blogging and fashion business and social media frenzy, where things are starting to become really exciting- keep an eye out for new collaboration projects which are gonna be here soon, guys. (I can’t dish out much info now but you’ll find out in a bit! You’ll be surprised! ; ) And THEN we’re left with my personal life- relationships, family, and all that jazz. Obviously I can’t reveal too much about THAT either, but for now, all I can say is that I feel that I’m becoming much more mature in terms of relationships with people. I think it’s because I’m growing to be more accepting.

With so much around me and inside me transitioning, I’m excited yet anxious, as any growing teenager my age would be. Soon I’m going to be of legal age. (Do you hear that? LEGAL. AGE. My goodness, time flies.) Every day I’m feeling new emotions, I’m experiencing new things, and through all this newness I can feel myself getting older. I’ve always held a fear of growing old. It’s not necessarily a fear of seeing the numbers of my age get bigger. It’s a fundamental fear of ‘change’. I can’t imagine myself mentally, emotionally, or physically being different from how I am now. It’s almost like I can’t believe that someday I’ll have to hand in my youthful skin and dreaming mind for a set of wrinkles and a careful, serious attitude attributed to a lifetime of experience. Of course, not all cases of aging go like this, and I do acknowledge that wrinkles and old age have their own beauty. However, right now I just feel like THIS-the way I am at this moment-is me.

I’m only 17 and a half and already I’m noticing that I’ve changed so much-from a mischievous yet smart little girl in London to a quiet, reserved pre-teen after suddenly moving to Korea(I knew little Korean back then), and finally to who I am now, a confused yet pretty self-actualized and excited teenager with so many problems and so little time. And looking back, I miss my old self sometimes. I think, ‘Maybe I’d have become a more positive person if I hadn’t so suddenly moved here, maybe I needed more time‘, and ‘What if the little girl inside me is gone forever?‘ These thoughts usually creep up on me when I’m feeling sentimental in a sad way. And then these thoughts move on to scare me about how much I’ll change in the future. ‘Look how much you’ve changed in just 17 years. Imagine how much more you’ll change as you become an adult and get thrown into the reality of society, with money and real relationships and all the other hazards of the adult world that you’re being protected from right now!‘ says the voice in the back of my head.

I don’t want to grow up because I love myself the way I am now, all the flaws too. I do want to improve, and don’t get me wrong-I am truly exhilarated just thinking of the future and all my dreams and ambitions-but I don’t want myself to radically change. It may sound cowardly and oh-so-typical-teenager-like, but it’s something I’ve been thinking about for a long time now. I. don’t. want. to. grow. up. 

But I guess the best I can do at present is to just work harder toward my goals and hope for the best; hope that I won’t become too materialized, hope that I’ll stay passionate, hope that I’ll grow stronger, hope that all the scars will heal and shape a better ‘me’ for the future.

Thanks for taking the time to read this, guys. : )

And a special thanks to my Korean readers, who are showing so much support on Facebook right now!

Picnic in the woods

Hey readers,

Although I’m not a big fan of being in the sun (UV RAYS! UGH!), I must admit that the right amount of sunlight and a green, nature-filled background can create amazing photos. Here are some photos I took with my sister on a picnic.

Keepin’ it simple with a white oversized shirt and black shorts.

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To like or comment on this post, just click the title of this post and scroll down to the bottom : )

Have a lovely day!

How to not deal with emotions

Hey readers,

I feel like I’ve been abusing this blog too much by going on and on about my personal life and all its nitty gritty details! Am I being too selfish? Here’s one last personal post for this summer before I get to work and fill you guys in on all the fashion stuff.

I thought writing about personal things would be the hardest, since, from my experience, no one’s really good at voluntarily and truthfully exposing themselves to the rest of the world. It usually takes lots of time, memories, and shared secrets for people to pluck up the courage to simply show themselves to each other. It’s a ridiculous human trait now that I put it this way, but it’s also understandable, since as a species we humans are so good at picking each other apart for who we really are. In this sense, it’s quite natural for me to be afraid (or at least nervous) of putting myself out here, writing myself down, on the internet(which is infamous for bringing out the inner brutality in people-hello haters?). But contrary to my original thoughts and popular belief, I actually feel most comfortable when I’m sitting here alone with my old broken laptop with a mug of iced latte, telling hundreds of people I’ve never met before about my personal inner self. I think it’s interesting. Don’t you?

I think it’s easier for me to be honest here than to most people I know in real life because we(you, reading this, and I, writing this) don’t have any strings attached. As humans we actually are capable of being genuine and caring about each other without calculating profit(shocker, I know). We just never get the chance to do so because our society is built upon structure and class pyramids and all this give-and-take. It gets to my head sometimes. I mean, a lot. That’s why I’m very proud of myself for creating a little haven on the internet here where we can all just chill together and be who we are and not be judged or discriminated or used. All I ask of you is to be genuine and honest.

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(It’s a shame that I try to cover the camera lens all the time when people try to take photos of me. Maybe I just haven’t fully accepted myself yet?)

Speaking of honesty, a personal thing I want to share with you here in my personal haven called my blog today is that recently I’m realizing that I haven’t been a very honest person, in terms of emotions. To myself and consequently to other people, too. In the past I thought I was amazing at the art of self-expression. After all, I’m a (self-labeled) artist, writer, blogger, and photographer. Back in London, my favorite class was drama-when I was a child I wanted to become an actress. I was the epitome of self-expression; the queen of expressing human emotions. Or so I thought. Until yesterday.

I was always good at coming up with expressive, unique ideas that no one else in the class could think of. But I know now that that does not make me good at ‘self-expression’. Expression through art and real honest emotional expression are two different concepts. I could convey certain emotions through my literary skills or art skills or acting skills, but (especially as I grew older) I lacked the ability to communicate what I myself was feeling in real situations in my life. As I hit puberty and matured, I absorbed the ideals of profit and give-and-take that my competitive surroundings(hello, private prep school) were feeding me, and my inability of honest emotional interaction got worse and worse and hardened inside me, becoming a solid characteristic trait of mine. And not only did the inability stick, but in my mind I also started to form prejudices against emotions themselves. I thought emotions made people weak, and that the stronger people were the ones that knew how to not let petty things like compassion or ‘feelings’ affect their lives and their paths to success. I idolized logic and cold-blooded-ness. My face lost its aptitude to move its muscles to transmit what was going on inside my emotional chamber. In middle school people(friends, ex-boyfriends, teachers) would often tell me I should smile more and stop looking so devoid of emotion all the time. In high school(which I’m still attending), when doing “What type of person are you” quizzes on Buzzfeed with my friends, my friends shout out “emotionless!” on the “How do your friends describe you” question. Even then, I smirked silently inside as I gave myself a pat on the back for succeeding in concealing my vulnerability-my emotions. And all the romantic relationships I’ve had probably don’t qualify as romantic relationships since there is no romance in faking, saying things I don’t mean, and being a user. (I hope my ex(es) are not reading this.) “I don’t believe in love.” I would state, proudly.

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Up until a few days ago, my whole 17 years of ego and self-esteem were built on my pride in my absolute devotion to logic and complete disregard of childish emotions, and my belief that that made me tough and gave me an advantage in life. What I didn’t realize was that hiding and ignoring my emotions did not make me a stronger person. I was blinded by my obsession over rationality and accurate calculations, and my bias on human emotions. Whenever I could feel my feelings seeping up from the barren asphalt of my mind, I would try my best to squish them back under the surface and coat another layer of asphalt on top of the crack from where they had seeped out. What I didn’t know was that burying the emotions alive wouldn’t kill them. Ignoring the emotions would get them out of the way for a while, but the emotions would still be there inside me under the layer of asphalt, bubbling and boiling and knocking on the surface to get out. I was basically just planting volcanoes in my mind and heart. And those volcanoes erupted yesterday.

All the anger, sadness, and vulnerability I had bottled up inside me finally got the best of me. They had been eating at me little by little from the inside, and yesterday they erupted like there was no tomorrow. Something inside me exploded. I cried and laughed and felt more numb than ever all at the same time, and my mind, which was only used to pushing emotions out of the way, wasn’t trained to handle emotions, so I panicked. I was in a terrible state. I acted out by being rash and not thinking(a total opposite to my usual habits of over-thinking everything) and doing something very stupid. Luckily, my friends helped me out and stopped anything too big from happening.

So here I sit in this cozy chair in a cafe that I usually go to on my street, after the storm. I now finally see how ironically irrational I was actually being.

I remember I once asked my best friend, “Are emotions important?” And he said, “Yes.”

“Why?” I demanded. “They just make you vulnerable.”

To this he said, “They’re what make you human.”

I now understand what he meant. Emotions aren’t childish. Trying to ignore them is. And ignoring them comes with terrible consequences. Everyone has them(unless you’re a psycho/sociopath… in which case you should go see a doctor right now). Even I have always had them. Thinking back now, I’ve actually experienced many deep emotions(I think I actually probably have a pretty high EQ). I just refused to acknowledge them as a part of me.

Now that I’m removing the veil of prejudice and clouded thinking before my eyes, I can see that me trying to appear emotionless was only a manifestation of my insecurities. I didn’t know how to deal with my insecurities and my own vulnerability and was afraid of them, so my mind reacted to the fear of showing my weak spots by just not showing anything. I was a coward. I thought it made me strong but it made me weak and almost killed me inside. Now I’m going to practice exercising my emotions in a more healthy way; practice being human.

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Image Credits: http://theladyawkward.blogspot.kr/2014/03/evil-cold-hearted-ice-queen.html, http://www.pinterest.com/pin/329748003936339933/