Sydney Kang was originally born Hyelin Kang on August 12th, 1993 in Seoul Korea. At age three and a half, Kang and her family imigrated to British Columbia, Canada where they resided for eight years in a two bedroom apartment in Guilford, Surrey. It was in the third year of living in Canada that she recieved her “calling” name, Sydney. In June of 2005, the family moved once more to Calgary, Alberta. Kang spent most of her time at Robert Warren Junior High somewhere between almost content and slightly antisocial. She participated in school events for the most part and joined band, where she played flute, an instrument that she lost interest in two years into Junior High. Secondary education came in the form of Dr. E. P. Scarlett Senior High School for Kang where she quickly dropped the flute and began playing the contrabass. Once again, she participated in school events for the most part and generally spent her time in between classes rather than truly in them. She took many classes, most of them irrelevent to her life past, present, or future, and wandered between indifferent and genuinely happy for the most part. :)
DISCLAIMER* This is mostly accurate but many things are left unsaid, such as names of family members and friends as well as other important information that the author did not wish to disclose. :)
Thanks for caring about me love.
I <3 you muchly. :)
I suffer from what I like to call “taking life too seriously at times and freaking out unnecessarily” and, although I keep it under control most of the time, I often relapse. D:
Haha I am fine. Don’t worry. :)
When you like someone, not just in a “finding them attractive” sort of way, but in a total and complete “you could stand to be with them for long periods of time” sort of way, you become hyper aware of everything they do. Especially in regards to yourself. This is generally really bad because you take the simplest things as a casual glance completely out of context and start to weave crazy stories in your head. Then, once you’ve convinced yourself totally that there is something there, the insecure side of you takes over and you completely convince yourself that there is no way that someone like him could have mutual feelings for someone like you. In a way, by doing this, you break your own heart.
is not a word. I’m well aware of this fact. However, I often feel compelled to say this word because of the way life plays out. Life is filled with ridiculous-ness. It’s not necessarily good or bad, it’s just ridiculous-ness.
Ridiculousness? Ridiculous-ness? Is this hyphenated? Oh wait, it doesn’t matter! It’s a made up word.