Katrina Nguyen

If I was terminally sick, would you want me to tell you? Even if I really was terminally sick, do you think I would hide the fact, or be open with everyone about it? Specifically, to you, yes YOU- reading this, do you think I would tell you? What if I had a genetic disease? What if I a had mental disorder? What if my personal life was just not the greatest? What if it was? What if I'm actually a completely different person at home? None of you have any way of telling. My life may just really be as bland as I make it seem, or everything can be a fabrication. I'm a person, I have a personality, a mind, and live organs. There's much more to me than whatever it is that I come off to you as. I'm complex. I have a suppressive personality. Just because I am acting a certain way usually doesn't mean that it's all that I am. Maybe I just come off that way because I'm apathetic. Things just don't interest me right now. Things just aren't important. Remnants of who I am are carefully censored and reserved. My personality is carefully organized and my mental book-keeper only releases pre-approved information. Sometimes, I think of my mind as a reservoir of water. On unfocused or distracted days, I'm brimming over. I'm easily spilling- tolerant and compliant. On other days, I'm securely locked up. Nothing will leave. I'm closed. Either way, I am always monitoring my own mind and image. Just because I talk to you frequently does not mean that you know me. Very, very few people know me. If you were one of them, you'd know it. You wouldn't have to question it; I'm the type that once I find something good, I hang on to it- tightly.