Emergence

Entry 58

Entry ➄➇ 

❀ Draw the eye, suck us in; ❀
tell us we're not enough.

Reap our riches, diminish our worth;
we're nothing if we look rough.

Binge then purge, starve yourself;
have a pretty face at the cost of health.

New fad diets, weight loss pills;
❀ add your funds to the rich man's wealth. ❀

It's funny how life seems to favor some while others find themselves constantly struggling to get by. I would love nothing more to say life favors me, but that's not the case. I'm not the worst off, but nothing is what I would call easy. I grew up here in Seoul. I've gone to school with so many of the same faces for years, and sometimes a new face appears. It has always been a struggle to fit in. I've mostly just been cast out. Why? It's simple. I may or may not be a little overweight.

I know, it's a hard fact to believe. Or it would be if it wasn't for the fact that almost every morning I'm in the kitchen, shoveling a tall stack of buttered up, syrup drenched pancakes into my mouth. What can I say? It's one of my favorite breakfasts. Do I regret my choice to eat it every morning? Not really. Sure, it's not the healthiest option, and it does get frustrating listening to my two wretched siblings poke snide comments about my weight. It's not their fault, though. They take after our mother. Two scrawny little string beans with crap attitudes.

I, however, take after my dad. We both tend to be a little heavier. We're "foodies"; we take comfort in our food, as it's hard to find comfort elsewhere. While we do have a good relationship, there's just things we can't tell one another. Thankfully I have my diaries - this one, physical where I can touch pen to paper - and then there's the one that always gives me feedback - my best friend, Minseok.

Despite my weight, I would classify myself as normal. I know it's 'the thing' to be skinny with long, flowing hair and a makeup-achieved pale complexion. But that's not for me, and that's not where life led me. Instead, I'm chubby. My (( natural hair color )) hair is barely to my shoulders and most days it's a hot mess. Complexion? I have (( skin color )) and it's not always clear. Acne always pops up at the worst of times.

I've considered dying my hair for a while, but my mom killed that thought when she noted it would make me stand out more. As much as I hate to agree, it really would. Standing out isn't my thing. When you're larger and something makes you stand out from the crowd, you become an instant target.

The dice have seemingly not rolled in my favor. But that's okay, right? Diversity makes the world unique. At least, that's what my dad told me. Part of me holds tight to that and believes it while the other part of me insists he's just trying to make me feel better. Maybe he's trying to make himself feel better. It's hard to tell sometimes.

Mom hadn't been around most of last week, but she finally came back. She didn't call or text anyone. Dad stayed up worrying as he usually does. Part of me gets it, but part of me wonders what the point is. She's a forty-three year old woman who acts like a rebellious teen. She always comes back, never for very long. Just long enough to cause chaos and drama, start fights, take money, and run off again. Very mature, I know.

Sometimes I think about acting just like her. Not in the sense of causing chaos and drama, or fighting. Just take a bit of money and run off. Of course, I'd tell my dad what I'm doing; unlike mom, I care about my dad's feelings. It would kill me to know he's up all night stressing over my whereabouts. There's only a few places I would go if I ever did it. Doubt I will, though.

It's late, I should get to bed. School doesn't wait for the late, and I have no intentions of ever being late.

Good night, sweet dreams.
We'll meet again soon.

— Min (( Y/N )) ♥
J High, 1st year

࿔࿔࿔꣸(⁍̴̆◡⁍̴̆ )⊃✫⌒*･ﾟℎaters be ℎatin'✩'