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Writer's pictureclaudia

October 11:03 pm



I really do want to start a blog.

I feel such longing desire for self-expression, or somewhat performance so the world around me can see that I am not only the labels, that I am multi-dimensional. The ever-so permanent desire for resonance remains and exacerbates and fuses into all segments of life, leaving trail marks in all I act and all I think. And then it circles back to the spark of invalidity, so vulnerabilities are shielded from even my closest people, and my subcounsciousness finds extrerior structures to self-validate, owing to my interest in personality analysis, as if through that I find identity, I find someone, some persona that is already accepted and somewhat similar to me, something safe to adhere to, a means of comfort?

Or rather because sometimes I regret certain behaviours that contribute to the first impressions I give to others, that having a personality type allows them to see me past that surface in the most efficient light. Four letters that connote not all of me. And all this sends me into waves of doubting whether this need for authentic perception is inherently a form of people pleasing, or is any want for validation a form of people pleasing istelf. Ever since the abandonment of the essay subjects I grew to love, I feel incomplete with the pure thrill of STEM; I need to analyse, to think critically, to find patterns in all that is surrounding me so I can make some sense out of this chaos of life, so at least, I seem like I have it all together on the surface, at least, I tell myself. 



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