A compiled BTS writing portfolio.
This portfolio is a prose "diary" starting in 2017 when I found out BTS was coming to my city to perform. Since the day they were there I wrote about feelings of realization that I may not ever see them, unlike othe...
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BTS is set on their 2017 WINGS Tour. One of the locations they are performing at is Chicago. I could not have been happier. My love for K-Pop settled mainly on this boy group in particular. My subconscious only knows my true thoughts and perception which I cannot understand. They may not have been my first favorite group when I joined the fan base, but they have become more than just a favorite.
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These seven beings may never know how huge my heart is for them; nor know everything I wish to say to them. Utmost, they may never know my existence. It is very heartbreaking to love someone who seems as if they do not even exist when they are not aware of your own presence. It is like loving someone fictional; a made-up character in a non-existing world. They are so unrealistic even though they are real. They are just famous, too famous to reach. But before they are Jimin and Jin and V and Suga, RM, J-Hope, and Jungkook; they are people. Just like me.
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As much as I wish to meet them in person, it is not all I wish. I want to talk to them, one-on-one, in order to believe. Perhaps deep down I hope to win either one or all of their hearts, but it is a silly girl's dream, I know. Yet, why do I still linger and sulk over the thought? I want to be the glimpse that they cannot shake from their minds. Would they even be genuinely interested in me based on my physique? It is discouraging when I look at my reflection. "Where is my beauty? Where is my talent? What am I to you?" I cannot grasp confidence any longer.
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The rope is beginning to burn my hand. If they could grab my wrist before I let go, I may finally begin. Their voices will be my melody, while their physique is my aesthetic. Their songs will be my lullaby, while their dances are my inspiration. They are the Stigma in my life that can never be erased. When I am lost, they may be my guide. A smile or a laugh is enough to produce a smile or laugh of my own.
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All I can ever think about is them. My mama calls this an obsession, but I call it my first love. I do not believe I am obsessive, despite my inner hype. It is only an excitement in my veins. If my mind is deceiving me, then everything could be a lie. As a youth, even I can feel broken. Continuing to amplify my admiration towards these seven boys could create such abstract not only in my mind but even my heart. If this is what it is like to be entranced, I may never want to be awake.
