i feel like there is just everything wrong with me.

it's not necessarily like, i feel that i have a bunch of flaws or that i'm not good at X or bad at Y. it's like i honestly, genuinely feel that there is just something terribly wrong with me, something wrong with who i am and just the very essence of me.

i don't really know how to explain this feeling. it reminds me of this time i got into a fight with my mom over the phone. i told her that i wanted to major in vocal music, and she said i'd end up poor and she wouldnt pay for my college if i did that. i told her that i had to, because when i sing, i stop feeling sad- i am just happy and i feel okay and i know that i want to be. i stop feeling like there is something wrong with me. and she said that there wasn't anything wrong with me.

i don't know if this has to do with things that have happened to me, like some weird repression or reverse emotional backflow that never got out or dealt with and it got all twisted up inside and now i can't feel whole. maybe i am just being a drama queen and exaggerating bullshit. what the fuck- why does "exaggerating" have two g's in it? that's fucking bullshit. fuck you, English language.

i really don't know. i can't really think right now. i think i should sleep instead of typing this. i really want to cry, but i dont know if i should or if i can.

In my autobiography class, we have been reading the journal of Etty Hillesum. She was an incredibly intelligent, philosophical young woman living during the Holocaust. She died at Auschwitz before she was 30, but her letters and journal were collected, translated, and published by relatives.

I think that, amidst all the talk of numbers and statistics, of millions and millions dead, of remembering and never forgetting the Holocaust, we overlook the fact that, of the 11 million lives lost, every single one was a unique and valuable human individual. These people were not defined by the fact that they died in a war. Long before the war even began, they had their own loves, families, lives, and careers. They thought and breathed and broke bread together and they felt.

Etty was not perfect- she was far from it. She had moments when she gave in to hatred, and she cursed the Germans and wanted every German person to die. But she knew that, deep inside, if even one German person was good, then it was wrong to call them all evil. She believed in the power of hope and the goodness in all of us- one of the last things she left for this world was the message that "we should be willing to act as balm for all wounds."

I want to be someone who does this. I want to leave my mark on the world- one that lasts and heals. The question is, how? We were all gifted with certain talents, certain advantages and disadvantages that let us see the world in different ways. Some of us write, or sing, or play sports. Some people haven't discovered their talents yet, but they are there.

I think everyone needs to feel that they are beautiful. At the very least, that they are not ugly, and there isn't anything wrong with them.

I think that a lot of people don't feel that way these days.

This semester has started strangely. It has been what I thought it would be...and at the same time, I have surprised myself.

I think that I am starting to grow up. Maybe not "grow up". That implies that I am an adult/old. I am moving on. The things that mattered last year are little shadows now. The things that hurt me two, three, four years ago- I have really just left them in the dust.

Believe me, it hasn't been easy. There has been a lot to let go of. It's like sadness was a part of me. It was something that I had so much of, and that I was so used to, that I didn't want to let it go. I was afraid of feeling something else, because sadness had become so familiar and...comfortable.

I am not sure what happened. Maybe it is distance, or time, or this change of scenery. Maybe it is finding the right people (or at least...one right person) to have in my life. Maybe it's speaking out, and telling other people about my life.

Sometimes, I minimize the part I have in my own life. I've always leaned on the side of determinism- that so many factors in our lives are predetermined or beyond our control, and whatever we do is just a reaction to it. I forget that I could have given up so many times, so very easily.

I forgot that I deserve credit for the life that I have made for myself. When I wrote this story on sunday night, of course it affected me. But a year ago, I would have cried my eyes out. I would have stopped breathing and panicked. I would have totally shut down, and been completely unable to function or go out the next day. But now, it's just a ripple. Yes, I cried. But I feel like...this doesn't matter so much anymore.

I have reclaimed my past for ME.

I am so horrible at keeping up with things like this, but somehow I have posted on a semi-regular basis so far.

I am really confused about what I want to study in college. I am torn between three majors- English (writing focus), Women's Studies, and Music (Vocal emphasis). Ideally, I would do all three, but to do so would mean going absolutely crazy. I feel like all of these things are a huge part of me, and so it's hard to just pick one (or possibly two).

Right now I am thinking of doing English and Women's Studies, as they work the best together. If I did a music major my mom would hate me. She thinks it isn't something I should major in. I know that she just worries about me being able to support myself and find a job, but really? I am a humanities person, which automatically makes my job prospects terrible. Music is worse than English or WST though, in terms of jobs. I don't know.

I am going to worry about this later, and just take some more classes next semester to see how I feel.

I haven't really done something like this in a long time. I used to have a livejournal and xanga in high school and I have Facebook now, but it isn't a super-personal/private place to put things. I have a blog, Weather for Headphones, but even that is public. So I am here now.

My name is Chungyen. I am 19 years old, a boy, and I am a writer. I have written since the 5th grade on a semi-regular basis. I specialize in poetry about identity, life, and isolation. I am currently in my sophomore year at Berea College. I haven't decided if I want to major in English, Music, or Gender/Women's Studies.

I have had a crazy, but sheltered life. I was molested by my older brother from the 3rd through 8th grade. I have struggled with depression and body dysmorphism since forever, and Binge Eating Disorder, to a lesser extent. I was raised by a single mother and until recently, in poverty. I have survived two suicide attempts by overdose. I am allergic to a million things and my skin hates me.

I believe in God. I don't think that there is a hell. I don't believe that bad things happen. I don't believe in keeping secrets, and I have found that people respect you for it. I believe that all people are basically good. I believe that we are all trying to do what is best for ourselves and the people we love, but we all have different ideas of how to do that. I don't believe in sexual orientation.

I am neurotic and optimistic and I frequently lecture myself. There are times when I am angry or bitter about the things that have happened to me, but only for a moment. I have found that hope is in my heart, even when my brain says otherwise. I once wanted to be a white girl. I have a lot of issues with my mom. I am lazy and I always procrastinate on things. I like video games, comic books, and lots and lots of music.

So that is a tiny snapshot of who I am. Now who are you?

So I've been working on an arrangement of the song Soul Eyes today. Going well, hopefully will finish it tomorrow.

Saw Eddie Izzard this past Friday night, it was very much excellent. Worth every penny, especially since it was part of my christmas gift and I didn't spend any money. Seriously though, you should be jealous.

I fell a bit short of my 300 mile per month goal for this first month of the year, but we had a week of rain. I think I shall punish myself for missing the mark by going up GMR once again tomorrow morning.

What else, what else... oh. I haven't been practicing nearly as much as I should be. I keep slacking off and do nothing. Not good.

I guess that's all for now.