for a long while, i prided myself on being a splendid writer with the most flowing and beautiful language you could imagine. now, as i sit and actually type and read over my sentences, i cringe and have to tie myself to a chair to prevent myself from deleting every trace of myself from the internet.
it's funny, my situation being that i'm the number one critic of all that is written, whether i have the qualifications or not! i can't bear books with poor writing, and i mercilessly laugh at poor grammar. i pride myself on having so much classic literature on my "books read" list, and guiltily keep all my modern literature hidden away at home, certainly not for anyone to find out about!
i admit that i am the chief of snobs, and a most tiresome one at that. but i am tired of my charade. i am tired of trying to hide my silly favourite pastimes. i am tired of trying to present myself as the most distinguished and clever person you will ever meet. it's tiring because it's not real, and it's tiring because everyone else knows it's not real.
of course i want everyone to think me intelligent and witty and classy, but so much of that is not me at all. in all honesty, i'll say that i'm a bumbling, nervous girl with the social graces of a dust bunny. i'm scared of men, and i fear strangers much more than eternal loneliness. i can barely eat lunch with my friends without constantly worrying about gravy stains on my face and little bits of salad wedged in between my teeth, doing the wrong thing and inadvertently offending someone by the way i use my chopsticks.
and oh my deep desire to be beautiful! in malls i make the subconscious effort to cruise by all the mirrors to check if i've suddenly and miraculously transformed into a beauty. of course, 9 out of 10 times i'm bitterly disappointed because i still have oversized lips and a moon face and horrendously veiny skin. yet i pretend that i don't care about looks, and feign nonchalance when people discuss beauty.
i see pretty girls and envy them with a passion and constantly comb through my sister's sns accounts to compare myself with them. i look through old selcas and scrutinise every picture until i get so tired of them that i delete pictures i thought were fine before.
whenever i feel attracted to some guy i try to convince myself to feel otherwise. i wrote in my diary recently about how none of them "deserve the misfortune of my affections", and i think of how dreadfully embarrassed any poor boy must feel if he found out that slimy alyssa fancied him! so i try to box in my heart, and stuff it away because it's tiresome to imagine myself subject to such weakness. and of course i keep it inside, and pretend that i am better than everyone else, and call everyone dumb.
this is why i try to mould my image into something far from myself. i want people to realise how clever i am, and to be ignorant of how scared i feel. i want to push forward the picture of myself as a cold but a kind person. someone above the idiocy of humanity and feelings, but good and nice.
it's so silly to think of it now! i'm so self-obsessed that i'm forever twisting and tweaking myself mentally so that i can appear better to the people around me. i scramble about on the inside in the hopes that on the outside i would be seen as shiny and wonderful. and how completely stupid and foolish i make myself.
still i realise everyone goes through this. maybe not exactly the way i do, but who exists in this world who doesn't want to hide his faults and only show his best side? it's impossible for anyone to want to flaunt every single fault of theirs and keep away all their virtues. everyone has something about themselves they are quite ashamed of.
yet each one of us is so busy focused trying to hide his faults from others that in the end we don't even realise each others shortcomings very much. aren't we humans so silly? and so sad.
but i thank God that we're not hopeless. foolish and irrational, pathetic and pitiful as we are, i believe with all my heart that perhaps there is hope for us yet. we're broken and miserable, but humans are not stuck in a rut. there is a way out, and i will be there-- maybe slowly, but somehow i will be better.
in the meanwhile, you can just pretend that i didn't just pour out my heart onto the internet, and when you see me you may bow to my overflowing grace and poise and then leave me alone because i'm naturally so much more than you will ever be.
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