Bus Ride Home

Bus Ride Home

The sunlight tickled my left eyebrow, as I lay my heavy head deeper into the fur hood of my winter coat. It was almost as if the golden light was grazing my face with its fingertips, causing me to wince and sneeze a little. Allergies. 

I sense the middle-aged woman behind me flinch ever so slightly as I shudder from my sneeze, and I apologize in my mind, ‘Sorry woman, but don’t worry, I don’t have Corona,’ then I catch myself thinking, ‘-but I might as well, if every other day of my life turns out as miserable as this one,’ But of course, it’s just a split-second thought, I’d never die because I’m too weak and too strong at the same time. On days like this, a woman’s got to remind herself that there are things to live for and live by, there are tasks to be done, there are people to be met and dreams to be ravished and places to be conquered and- 

-my phone shudders too, I frown as I grudgingly pull it out of my coat pocket, careful as so not to pull too hard on the wire(wireless earphones just don’t make sense to me – or so I tell myself whenever I check my card receipts every now and then), and I raise my eyebrows intentionally as I read- ‘Konni Kim. here’s the password. Bye.’ I mean, three years together and that’s how we’re going to address each other now that we’re done? Come on, this isn’t 1970. 

It sucks enough that I had to ask my ex for the password to our joint webdrive, but what sucks more is having to rummage through 9,476 haunting files to pick out my own photos from the stack of remains of what used to be a relationship. Why is it that love makes us do stupid things like share a fucking webdrive? Never making that mistake again. 

Love sucks, I think as I try to push out any recurring images of him with his new girlfriend, telling myself it’s over and it’s not worth it, it’s not like you were going to marry him in the end anyways, it was a tied up knotted no-good situation and this was going to happen one way or another, but then all the ‘what if’ arguments start boring a hole in my head, asking me ‘what if you had somehow held on’ and ‘what if you had been a better person’ and-

-my misery debate is interrupted by the announcement of the bus telling me I’m home. 

Copyright, all rights reserved, konnikim.com

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.

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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Like this post and leave a comment! (Click on the title of this post, and scroll down. You’ll see the like button and comment box at the bottom of the post.)

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

What it takes to be a model

Hey readers,

You know when we see a hot girl/guy and gush about her/him to our friend sitting next to us, whispering, “She/He should so totally be a model!” What thought runs through our mind at that exact moment? What makes us decide, in that moment, that a pretty, skinny, tall, handsome person ‘should be a model’? Is it because we truly, innately believe that attractiveness must be promoted and shown to the public? Or is it our unconscious, submerged in the shallow puddle of a standardized, lookism society?

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(The mugshot of Jeremy Meeks, the ‘#sexyfelon’)

Above is THE controversial mugshot photo that people are going crazy over. For those of you that haven’t yet heard what the fuss is all about, here’s the story: Jeremy Meeks, a former gangbanger and convict of a number of other charges(grand theft, felon possession of a firearm, and more in the past), recently shot to fame after his mugshot(image above), which was posted on a police Facebook page, attracted the attention of social media. At the time, the photo had over 100,000 likes(which means it has even more now). Meeks is currently still behind bars, but women all over the world are raising money and supporting his bail for the one reason that he is HOT. He has also landed a modelling contract with Blaze Modelz, a modelling agency based in L.A. Tom Ford has also signed a contract with the felon for him to appear at court wearing a Tom Ford suit and tie.

The disturbing thing about this story is the extent to which people judge based on looks. It’s sickening to think that one would actively donate money(which could have been used to help buy food for people living in poverty) to get someone out of jail-not because they logically think that he is innocent-but just because he is attractive.

However, what’s even more disturbing is the fact that modelling agencies and high-fashion brands are approaching him, offering him modelling contracts. Well obviously it is a well known fact that most models are ‘attractive’ according to social standards, but this whole craze makes me question the essence of being a fashion model. Is modelling solely about fame and good looks?

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I really enjoyed watching Season(Cycle)20 of the famous TV show America’s Next Top Model, and although most of the contestants tend to be physically attractive, I remember that at the end of the day the final judgement was made based not on looks but on true talent, ‘talent’ being possessing the traits/skills(spontaneity and creative response to unexpected situations, posture, confidence, understanding of one’s own physical features, passion for fashion, etc.) that are required to be a good model. This is one of the reasons why I enjoyed the show. But apparently in the real fashion world people can just get hired as a model(despite the fact that a whole nation-worthy number of people are in line, working their butts off to become a model) for looking good and taking a good mugshot.

Can a single mugshot really ooze ‘fashion model potential’? Is being ‘hot’ a direct ticket to a new career in the path of high-fashion?

Here’s another example of someone becoming a model after becoming internet-famous for their looks.

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(Axelle Despiegelaere, the Belgian girl who landed a L’Oreal cosmetic modelling contract for standing in the crowd and looking pretty at the World Cup)

She filmed a hair tutorial, then had that modelling contract in her hands until it was snatched away because of a photo of her posing with a gun and a dead animal that she killed on a hunting trip. With the photo she wrote the caption, ‘Hunting is not a matter of life or death. It’s much more than that..this was about 1 year ago…ready to hunt americans today haha : P ‘ Fans were outraged and L’Oreal announced that her contract was ‘completed’.

What I’m trying to say through this story is, is an attractive photo and internet fame all that it takes to become a model? Of course, companies seek profit by hiring trending figures to represent their brand, but what does this mean to the meaning and definition of being a model? Is a model just a pretty face?

The ‘digital age’ was brought upon us many conveniences but at the same time also took away and degraded some of our values, one of them being the genuine artistic essence of modelling(which, for a healthy society, should be anything but just looks and fame). Because of this, we’re experiencing an era where young women are starving themselves to get perfectly flat stomachs and a gap between their thighs, where boys exercise just to get those ripped abs that they see on TV commercials. We’re experiencing an era where being yourself and looking different from the social norm is unacceptable, because we’re forced to standardize looks and fall into the trap of lookism that we’re making for ourselves.

To comment or like this post, just click the title of this post, then scroll down. You’ll see the comment box and like button at the bottom of the post.

Let’s have an online sleepover where we tell each other about our tedious daily lives.

Hey readers,

If you’re up for some one-on-one bonding time over ranting on about our tough lives, you’re in the right place. (We can be frieeennds!) Of course all of us are living extremely blessed lives, but sometimes we just have to let the things on our mind out so that we can move on and be all happy and chirpy again. What are you stressing out over these days? Tell me by commenting on this post(click the title of this post, then scroll down to the bottom of the post. You’ll find the comment box.)

And I know (trust me, I do, I’m in high school) that sometimes you just can’t whine to your friends or the people around you because they’re too involved and continuously complaining about the details of your dreary life to them might chase them off. So why don’t we(yes, me and you. You and Konni.) rant to each other about our daily struggles? I’m willing to talk. Or maybe just listen, if that’s what you want.

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(So…let’s feed each other strawberries and have some quality bonding time like the people in this photo..?)

So let’s just sit down here with a cup of tea(ehh. I’ll have a chocolate Nesquik. But whatever works..) and talk about our hardships and the teeny-tiny annoying things that your husband/wife/girlfriend/boyfriend/employer/friend does that you just can’t stand. Let’s talk about trivial things(or crucial events, if you’re up for it) like shallow people at a hair salon. Or like 15 year old girls at a sleepover.

Honestly, these days I’m having a hard time with running a not-your-average-fashion-blog blog. It has its perks, like being able to connect more genuinely with my readers. I also get to do whatever I want whenever I want to. I get to be myself. But the hardships are pressing down on me these days. Typical fashion/style related blogs are usually packed with high-definition photos of pretty girls posing with an indifferent look on their faces, wearing the hottest trends or the cutest little vintage item. Their photos are all over tumblr, WeHeartIt, Instagram, etc. It’s easier for them to get recognized as a ‘fashion blog’ among young teens(mostly girls). But the thing is, I’m raw. Maybe too raw to be the owner of a fashion blog. I take raw photos, I don’t buy designer label clothes, and I don’t make things look pretty. Usually I criticize the current fashion industry or try to prove how awesome fashion is not by posting pictures of beautiful leggy girls in floral dresses but by writing my mind and trying to stay as true to myself as possible. And as lovely as it is for me, it’s so much harder to get noticed by the fashion industry or magazine scouts. This makes it more difficult to get my thoughts across to big crowds of people.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not looking down on other fashion-related blogs. I’ve just observed some differences between the majority of fashion blogs and mine. I’m just stating some thoughts that popped up in my head while exploring Seventeen Magazine’s Style Council teenage bloggers.

Being off the mainstream road can be tough, I guess.

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(random photo of homemade cupcakes. My mum and sister made them for me on my 17th birthday.)

I’m also stressed because of relationships and my emotions. I feel very frustrated when I can’t control my emotions. But then… schoolwork just keeps rollin’ in and I have so much to do everyday, which prevents me from getting a chance to sit down alone and sort my emotions out.

Well, that was me.

Your turn.

What’s on YOUR mind?

To comment or like this post, just click on the title of this post, then scroll down. You’ll see the Like button and Comment box at the bottom of the post. I love reading your comments, so go ahead and tell me what you thought of this post. Have an amazing day, guys! 

Image Credits(first photo):

http://glossi.com/Fairy_Magazine/61491-fairy-magazine-issue-one

The Deadly Cost of Fashion

As a fashion blogger, I feel it is one of my responsibilities to raise awareness of how the clothes we see in stores every day are created and transported to us. Like this blogger says, we really shouldn’t take fashion for granted. I believe that as a human, each and every one of us has a responsibility to understand what is happening in other parts of this world and should strive to help other humans in need.

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This video is such a great reminder of what we as americans have. We honestly have no reason to complain about anything. We aren’t losing family members/ friends because they are making clothes for people in another who don’t even know they exist and most of the time forget where their stuff comes from. It’s also such a powerful message about the inequality other countries have. Living off $68 a month or less is really hard to wrap my head around. My fam spends more than that for a weeks worth of groceries and we also spend money in many other places as well. Sometimes being this blessed is such a curse but we just need to remember to not take it all for granted.

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The VERY INSPIRING BLOGGER AWARD goes to…me!

Hey readers! : D (great big smile, because I’m always excited to meet you guys)

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I come with stupendous news today! I was just awarded the Very Inspiring Blogger Award by an awesome blogger who runs this blog:

Just Mad Stuff (http://justmadstuff.wordpress.com/)

It’s a photography blog but this blogger also posts about fashion, food, and other fun topics and I love it! You should really go and give it a visit. She’s an interesting person and she’s also 17-like me! : D

Here’s a very big, affectionate Thank You (internet)hug to the blogger of Just Mad Stuff

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So  now that I’ve received this wonderful award(Yay!), apparently I’m supposed to pick my own inspirational bloggers and pass on the glory.

Here’s my pick!

#1. Make Something Mondays! http://makesomethingmondays.wordpress.com/

This blogger inspires me because: Her posts are super-unique and I enjoy reading about her DIY crafts. These days she’s posted a lot about Valentine’s Day-this is a sad topic for me because I don’t have a boyfriend : (  but this blogger just makes everything all better by showing us her cute, fun, easy-to-do Valentine’s Day themed ideas! She recently just uploaded a DIY Valentine’s Day themed Mason Jar Hot Chocolate Gift tutorial post, and I actually tried it out at home myself!(and ate it alone while reading a book in my room. #foreveralone *sob*)

#2. Hello Gloua http://hellogloua.com/

This blogger inspires me because: She’s one of the most honest bloggers I’ve ever seen, and I know that being honest is hard-especially to strangers. Through her blog, she gives her readers a place in her life, and that’s one of the wonders of blogging. She doesn’t exaggerate or try to act superior-she just gives us a dose of her daily life, and reading her blog is like reading someone’s diary(I know you all love doing that). She’s a fun, sweet person and the story of how she fell in love with her husband really made my heart all warm and fuzzy. : ) (Check out the OUR STORY page on her blog to read the story.)

#3. Sweet and Crumby http://sweetandcrumby.com/

This blogger inspires me because: Okay, I admit that I’m not the best cook/baker in the world, but reading this blog makes me want to be! This is a baking blog, which is an area of the blogosphere that’s not really easy to stumble upon unless you’re professionally interested in baking. It’s an area that I’m not too familiar with(being a 17 year old high schooler stuck in a swamp full of school and homework), and that’s why it intrigues me even more! Before coming across this blog, I never knew that baking was so artistic and took so much effort. I salute this blogger’s passion in baking.

A short story about writing, stories, and high school, told by a teenage fashion blogger.

The following excerpt is part of a story I’m writing. If it goes well, I’m hoping to publish it. Please, please, please leave comments below and give me some feedback-any honest thoughts will do, whether it’s praise or criticism or any random thought. Thank you. Do not copy any of the following content on this post without the permission of Konni Kim.

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People don’t usually take me for the outgoing, opinionated type. I don’t think they reckon I have anything that interesting to say. Or maybe it’s because I’m not your typical crowd-pleaser type girl.

So I’m just going to shut up and write silently, while everyone else is beating each other up with their witty remarks and noses held high. I’ll just take them apart, one by one, little by little, word for word, until they realize I’ve been watching the whole time. It will hit them like a wrecking ball one day-that my watchful stare didn’t mean nothing. It meant I was observing, waiting for my time to come. They’ll learn that while they were feeling smug about being users and not ‘the used’, I was laughing along with them, but at something much funnier.

I’m using them all as props for my story. I’ll get paid for publishing. I’ll create the world. They’re merely puppets as far as I’m concerned. In my world, I can send them to Pluto or make them lick my feet. Who says reality has to dominate? What everyone wants is a story, whether it’s real or fake. We watch movies, we read, we tell historical tales. The media exaggerates and lies, and we’re forced to spin stories to tell on our college admission forms.

It’s the high school scene that craves for a story most longingly, in a brutal, unforgiving way. So many little cults with different ideologies, packed into tiny compartments where judgement awaits…

It’s pressure that creates the need for a story. Pressure from all angles-parents, peers, school, teachers… No wonder no one here can sit still for even a moment. Prep schools are the worst. Not any old story will do for the stuck-up cliques of prep school.

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This post(the piece of writing above) is not necessarily based on myself, or my own experiences.