I'm wide awake, yet still dreaming. For as long as I can remember, I've been one to yearn for all the best. Whether that consists of material items, great fortune, luck, influence, power- it's all quite selfish, honestly, although I wouldn't consider it "superficial". Of all traits and qualities, I like to think that defines me least of all. Don't get me wrong: I'm no Holden Caulfield/conspiracy theorist, because when it comes down to it I can be admittedly fake. It's hard not to be, when you meet a stranger; you can't admire anyone nearly as much as you'll pretend. Yet you do as not to seem rude, to maintain safe distance. Obviously, you can't bombard someone you've first met with thought-provoking inquiries, because the wow I love your jacket inevitably precedes all else. (Not to say clothes can't serve a purpose and make a strong statement, but among my peers I've noticed compliments don't result from that kind of speculation 99% of the time.)
Even so, I'm the type of person who has a propensity for overvaluation. I'd be happy to delve into the nitty-gritty of what others regard as trifling, be it bold fashion or satirical rap lyrics. Strip all these matters to the bone, then patch them up again with needle and thread; run down every facet, every crevice, the heart and soul of everything.
I'm far too prone to tears and emotional response in films, even though I tactlessly criticize them when the credits start rolling, even though I regard each work through a highly cynical and judgmental lens. (I'll probably make a good critic or editor someday.) In The real world, I'm okay at making friends but far less skilled at keeping them, since I find it hard to reveal my true self to others. It's a means of habit developed and strained from a former fear of rejection, one that lingers and looms and haunts me. I've learned to bear it, but it remains, and I'll probably never truly rid myself of it.
Self-expression has always come easy for me through art. Visual arts, music and performing arts, literary arts are fields in which I harbor talent. By no means would I say I am the "best" in any if these. Hence, another of my shortcomings: I'm quick to give up on something when I don't think I will excel.
I could say my name is Elena, I could say I'm a sixteen-year-old Korean-American girl; I could state where I live and my parents' professions and the grades I get in school. Maybe I could even talk about my extracurricular—dance sessions on Thursdays, violin lessons on Saturdays—but these are dry, hard, almost negligible facts. I've been begging my mother to let me quit the violin for a year now, and dance was something I never was good at that we decided to try on a whim. You. Still. Know. Nothing.
My point is, it's so impossible to pinpoint everything that I am in a tiny introduction, in a mere journal post, in a single explanation void of examples. What I hope to achieve is this: that with every post I make from this day forward, a little more of myself will seep out into the open, will be established, will be unveiled. It'll be a lengthy process, I realize that. I won't update regularly by any means; I'm lazy and too often preoccupied by extraneous pursuits. But I have too many thoughts circulating within this complex little mind of mine, and it's time I set them free.
And so I offer you not a contract, not a promise, but a wish to try. At present, I think that's a fair proposal.♚ to be continued