Dead and Scorned: An Obituary

May Cho, self-proclaimed blogger and writer, died last night from complications of losing her soul.

During her living days, May spent a considerable amount of time crafting the perfect “About Me” page. A version never lasted more than a few months. Until her death, there still is no way of accurately describing her; she was all bones and no flesh, and there never was much to her because she never gave much to the world. She preferred to remain a mere body of colored hair and pale lips instead of becoming the stories she so vociferously supported, choosing to perpetuate a false image of herself, dictating meticulously how exactly she should appear in pixels and on screens – broody, intellectual and uncanny – when all she really was amounted to a mere lump of desperation in the short period of time she seemed to believe was her life.

Perhaps "liar" would be too strong a word in the wake of her death but more often than not, on a weekday evening, you can find her sitting in her bedroom wailing about a bout of existential crisis wherein the existence of her crisis is questionable in itself and surfing the web to find every reason to pity herself. May was problematic. Pathetic. She was a conundrum of pseudo mayhem, born of trend-driven angst. And above all, she was, quite simply, a horrific liar.

Her method of sustaining her own delusions, however, is worth remembering if only for the fact that it is pitiful as much as it is amusing. May exemplified her conceived personality through futile attempts of articulating what she called her “thoughts” on a tiny blog she had the misfortune of perceiving as anything that is the least bit important, publishing entries of unnecessary length, taking photos of redundancy, advertising it as everything that is synonymous to interesting. The blog died ages before she did.

Towards the last of her days, May’s confused soul threatened to burst, and friends and family claim that she tried hard to undo her web of lies. It is unfortunate that she died hanging by a thread from it.

Take this with a pinch of salt, or a handful of salt if you'd prefer.

This could be my own heightened (or mellowed, depending on your point of view) and macabre version of the infamous Roast Yourself Challenge. This could also be my own twisted way of reminding myself that there are so many things the world can remember you for, but how you see yourself is also kind of really important.

Whatever it is, I had a really fun (again, subjective to your point of view) time writing this, and I thought I'd share it with you.

How do you really see yourself?


P.S // If you know recognize the reference in the opening sentence, let's be best friends.

P.P.S // It's been a while since I've been here. Hope everyone's doing well.


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