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[wsjungeun]

[wsjungeun]

wsmiles

....     his usual aggressive demeanour ceasing to a gentle one, perhaps a part of him grew more sympathetic without his realisation. i’ve grown soft. a subtle scoff leaving him.

there was a specific pleasure to feeling cold rain and hot tears run simultaneously down her face. being thin, the navy blue fabric of her pajamas quickly grew drenched and clung to her skin; similarly, her hair, waist long in length, dissolved into a silky curtain running over her back as she remained motionless in the cold. the possibility of catching a cold from this moment was at the forefront of her mind, but she willed herself to not care—it was the insufferable condition of feeling captured indoors or risking her health to feel freedom outside, and at the moment, there was nothing to switch her preference from the latter. she parted her lips to let out a shaky exhale; it was an attempt to placate the cries that were threatening to escape her, and she opened her eyes to find comfort in the rainy scenery before her. “calm,” she thought to herself. “stay calm.”

absorbed in her thoughts, jungeun had failed to realize that footsteps were approaching her through the rain. it was only when miles was close enough — enough for her to sense heat through sheets of cold rain — that she lifted her gaze to see him.

dark brown eyes, whose daylight shine was no longer visible, were edged with red; long lashes, wet from her tears, earlier shower, and current rain, created an illusion of shadow around her stare. seeing miles induced a dynamic progression of emotions within her gaze: eyes widened from surprise before dropping their stare out of embarrassment, and although she had processed that he was getting drenched from the rain on her accord, the mortification she felt to be caught by an industry sunbae — specifically of a group she looked up to — was enough to send her emotions into an overdrive where nothing existed but her, her misery, and the rain.

her shoulders trembled as the cries she had been holding back left her lips, and slender hands quickly moved up to cover her contorted face. every suppressed emotion—anger, grief, exhaustion, annoyance, disappointment—and burden—the pressure to diet, the need to be beautiful and confident and desirable—resurfaced in her mind. she had merely followed this dream to be happy, but the thought of remaining emotionally crushed in this manner for the remaining duration of her activities was exhausting and devastating. unwanted past fears that she was on the wrong path and pursing the wrong dream reemerged at the front of her mind, and the sadness, fear, and anger inundating her mind wracked her body in sobs. the rain sounded just as loud as her cries, and to be doing this in front of miles— jungeun just wanted to disappear.

she did not have the capacity to process thoughts of what he would think of her; instead, her mind traveled to disappointment in herself— she was supposed to be strong: she was supposed to be blue. she was the girl who was confident; who could easily brush away stress with a smile; who was reliable, strong, and respectable.

yet she was crying like a child in the presence of an idol she never wanted to present herself as vulnerable to and on the verge of wanting to give up.

it was easier to think that she had lost her identity; it was harder to believe that the jungeun she knew herself to be would drop as low as to succumb to such pressures. wonders of whether she was truly as weak as she now seemed plagued her mind, and as her mind progressively grew number from the settling self-disappointment, her cries subsided.

when all that was left of her breakdown were shaky breaths and shoulders, jungeun managed to finally find her voice. she could not look at him; wet eyes remained averted towards the ground, and trembling fingers slowly wrapped themselves around her body in an attempt to find warmth. her words were spoken in a whisper barely audible above the patters of the rain.

“sorry.”

[wsjungeun]

open starter overdrive - 06.06.21, 12:36 AM 

a shower had not been enough. jungeun’s eyes were still brimming with tears when she stepped out, and edges of her face, although a faint glow of pink from the hot water, were tinged with red.

every action felt like a daze, and every emotion was a weight; nothing was being processed through her mind, and her dark eyes, glossy from their screen of tears, were empty and exhausted. lifting her arm to comb her hair felt like a chore; every limb of her body felt heavy, and upon feeling the brush fall from her fingers and onto the floor of her room, she took one look at her tearstained self in the mirror and choked back another cry.

the burn at the back of her throat was overwhelming, and for a moment, she struggled to breathe. tipping her head back, she blinked the searing tears away.

she was at a loss of what to do.

it was a new type of despair: one of uncertainty, confusion, and exhaustion, and while relatively certain that it was being caused by overexerting herself for dandelion’s debut, she was tormented by how confused it made her feel. her group’s debut was everything she had been waiting for, yet she was feeling empty; hallowed; gone.

when she returned her head to its normal angle, tears immediately returned, and deciding that she had no choice but to cry it out, jungeun grabbed the nearest cap on her clothes stand and rushed out of the dormitory -- into the downpour of rain outside.

her breath was instantly a shaky exhale of relief. cold liquid seeped into her pajamas, ridding her body of the heat that it had taken in from her earlier shower. unsteady, lifeless steps led her to the edge of the sidewalk, and standing still, she closed her eyes to let her tears fall in rhythm to the rain flowing over her body.

author’s note: STARTER ENDS HERE. added a drabble of her thoughts under the cut. i just sat in bed for a half hour thinking about jungeun & thought of how hard it must be for her to go through the sudden stress of debut - namely, refusing to believe that she needs to give herself mental space and rest and needing to answer the question, “who am i?” honestly, i could probably talk about jungeun for pages because i, as her mun, have no idea how i'm going to put all her pieces together, but ... we'll see :,)

tw: anxiety

i’ve lost myself. i stare in the mirror before an on-stage performance and no longer know who the girl before me is. she seems ridiculously plastic, and although i’m being told that she’s me -- she’s not. i am not the girl who cutely smiles before cameras; i am not the girl who can capture the attention of the audience; i am simply not..

or am i?

i am happy and sad; i am proud yet ashamed. i have worked hard with everyone in dandelion to make it to this point, and i am honored to help trailblaze wishbone’s presence in the entertainment industry. but every performance makes me question whether i know myself; every interview and every intermission presentation - who is jungeun? who is blue? i am becoming neither; the two are supposed to be the same, but i am being torn between what i was and what i need to be.

am i being ungrateful to be thinking of such? the support is as overwhelming as my growing fear of failure, and i’m failing to process my reality. i am being swallowed by a dark hole, but the smile that i have grown used to presenting still manages to naturally appear. jungeun is happy, and blue is confident; yet, i am screaming into a void of which no one can know.

[wsjungeun]

Saturday morning, and I am at the old game of catching time between my fingers as it is running, forever running, away.

Sylvia Plath, from The Unabridged Journals Of Sylvia Plath (via adrasteiax)

[wsjungeun]

starter for @wschorong

Although midday spring, a chilly breeze was managing to pervade Seoul’s upper-river districts. Dressed simply but warmly in navy blue skinny jeans and a matching yet worn Giordano jacket, Jungeun had her hands slipped into the pockets of her outwear to fold the fabric over her slender torso. Her long hair, unevenly wavy to where it ended at her waist, was tucked behind her ears under the dark blue cap she wore low over her eyes. Standing above the average Korean female at 167 centimeters, Jungeun peered over the heads of the passerby before her to peek at the restaurant’s occupancy. Her dark eyes, lightly framed with shades of dusty brown, gazed over the numerous vacant seats before turning to focus on her company.

“Doesn’t seem like there’s too many people inside.. What do you think about grabbing lunch here?”

This was just days before the release of their debut’s teaser, and with the sudden opportunity to enjoy a brief outdoor meal during her busy schedule, Jungeun had not hesitated to ask for Chorong’s company. There was just something their upcoming debut — perhaps the anticipation, excitement, nervousness surrounding the ordeal — that Jungeun needed to settle with the other girl’s reassuring presence.

The Korean restaurant before them was of average quality; there was nothing particularly special about the old building and the passerby before it. Nonetheless, it was all the reason for her heart to swell with excitement from the potential that a debut could have— ‘But perhaps, in a few days, they’ll know my name.’ Stifling a smile, she moved towards the restaurant’s menu that was placed for display on a front table. “They have bossam and naengmyeon — does that interest you?”

[wsjungeun]

“She alone talks to me. When the last friend averted his gaze, She was with me in the grave, As if the first thunderstorm were singing, As if the flowers bloomed words.”

— Anna Akhmatova, from Music in “Poems: Anna Akhmatova" [translated by D. M. Thomas]

[wsjungeun]

wonlog korea

[wsjungeun]

untitled

staring outside a moving train; it’s raining, and soft, brown eyes are watching the water droplets racing across the window pane.

sudden flashback to 2016 of swimming while it's raining; the air is cold but the water is warm, and the chill is not uncomfortable but rather a pleasant contrast; a picturesque scenario of freedom where there are no obligations, worries, stress — just the smile of feeling cold rain hit bare, chilled shoulders while basking in the warmth of water

[wsjungeun]

© Prinzessin.

[wsjungeun]

    there’s  a  future  version  of  me     who’s  PROUD  that  i  was  strong  enough

[wsjungeun]

Preoccupied on the subway

An old man sitting across from me gets up to help a young couple lift their baby’s stroller into the train. His seat gets taken by the incoming swarm of people while doing so, but he notices this without a word or change of expression while moving to an open seat further away. He says nothing — expects no recognition or gratitude, and touched for reasons I do not know, I stare in silence from my own seat in the corner. The moment feels precious, as though it should be preserved, and I avert my eyes when I catch myself musing over the rarity of such an unwarranted act of kindness.

A few stops later, a young boy sits in a vacated seat on the side of the train that I’m facing. He cannot be any older than 8, and while he stares serenely down at his hands, my gaze unknowingly lingers on his small figure. For a second, my younger self is sitting before me — looking as innocent, unknowing, and pure as the boy — and on her way to school. She knows nothing of the future me but only of the school she dreads to go to. Her fingers fidget with the corners of her uniform as she tries to distract herself from the voices that haunt her, and her eyes glisten from the anxiety and hope that battle within them. The back of my throat is suddenly tight from a cry that grows from the sudden desire to tell her how strong she was - how proud I am that she allowed me to be who I am now, and when the train arrives at my stop, I stand up and leave with the silent promise that I won’t fail to make her proud.

[wsjungeun]

karina - studio choom

[wsjungeun]

(…) this “sweet silver moon” smiles in on me (…) She looks like a fairy tonight, sailing around the sky in a little silver gondola with stars for gondoliers.

Emily Dickinson, from Open Me Carefully: Emily Dickinson’s Intimate Letters To Susan Huntington Dickinson (via adrasteiax)

[wsjungeun]

yoosjimin: ♡♡♡

♡♡♡

[wsjungeun]

[wsjungeun]

hearing someone you love laugh is? easily one of the best things on earth

[wsjungeun]

breathtakingly beautiful ♡