hmm... back here again. i mean nothing in particular by that sentence. i simply mean that i feel like i'm wandering around. i'm trying to find myself, again. what exactly is my identity? i've searched countless years trying to find the answer, and now i think i have a few answers that i'd like to share. each and everyone one of these traits is only a small piece of me. something that separates me from other people. i mean, i know that there are people that think just as i do. people that have been through the same things that i have. people that have a greater understanding than most people that are my own age. but instead of dwelling on that, i would simply just like to share.

first, i am a girl. i am not yet a women, for i have not had the chance to gain the knowledge to be considered one. i am not physically strong, so long as you don't include my legs. my delicate arms dangle down by my sides, and serve no purpose except to keep myself warm when no one else is around. my torso, long and hour glass shaped, attaches to my hips. together they create a series of movements that allow me to entice and prance through many undeserving guys. they come in handy when i need a warm body to comfort me. my hands are thin, with long and skinny fingers. from what i'm told i should devote them to the piano. they wander curiously around the objects of life. combined with my arms, the two become a contrivance destined to reach and reach far. legs as long and powerful as mine wish to be devoted to the dance floor. they crave the powerful but graceful, delicate but yet complicated, elaborate movements between two people that only ballet could possess. they yearn to have those lean, slender, long legs that are just a bit out of reach. my feet are the only reason that i continue to stay grounded, physically that is. my head, contains many things. it contains my face. shaped very much like an oval, it includes a mouth. my mouth brings food into my body, and can expel it on my command. it delivers kisses to the undeserving and the deserving alike. its lips are soft, from what i am told. my mouth enables me to speak my mind, when it is willing. it rarely shares secrets, and only tells lies when it is absolutely necessary. which, it seems, isn't very often at all. my nose serves its purpose. it sniffs and alerts when something is not right. it itches when someone mentions my name. in many ways than one it is the hidden indicator. these tired, old eyes of mine have seen quite a few things. they are dark brown, almost black, and grant attention to an individual whether they are worthwhile or not. these eyes have seen plants come to life, and rain pour from the heavens. they have stared deeply into the faces of the underserving during the most intimate moments. they've cried over petty, insignificant things, and they've cried over the loss of a beloved. these eyes have seen people for who they really are. these eyes are tired and wish to rest. inside the thick layer of my skull contains, by definition, the coordinating center of sensation and intellectual and nervous activity. my mind is quite blank at the moment, but has many things to say.

to be continued.

goddamn it's been awhile. just finished making a couple of changes to the site. mainly hiding old entries and trying to hide a former version of myself. life has picked up a bit. actually quite a bit. it's mainly turned around because of college. i'm so happy that i decided to go and that my mom pushed me so hard in trying to get in. campus life is good, definitely the fresh start that i needed. the campus itself is-well i wouldn't say it's lovely. i'd say it's more... woodsy, i guess. and i love that. there are tree everywhere. leaves completely cover the ground around this time of year. and during the summer there's always a shady spot to just chill and relax after a stressful day of classes. everything is so spread out which makes keeping my weight down incredibly easy. soo easy that i don't even have to try. aha that's probably a bad thing, but it's cool.

hmm, so what exactly is going on in my life? a lot. but i don't want to discuss that yet. since i'm probably coming back i'm going to need something to write about right? 

so i'll move on to what i initially come here to write about.

i have two roommates this year. we share a room that was initially made to house two people. yeah, fun stuff. anyway, one of them has just gotten out of a serious relationship that has kind of ended badly. well, it wasn't kind of, it did end badly. well she went to check his tumblr the other day only to find that he had written a very personal entry about her entitled "emma watson". now it's not what you think. the entry wasn't about something bad, but about how he felt about the ending of their relationship. it begins by him explaining that every time he looks at a picture of her he can't help but to be physically moved by it, attached to it. his heart breaks every time he comes across one because of how beautiful she was/is to him. she was perfection to him, a perfection that was, until recently, his. he gets angry when he thinks about her being with other guys, and how those other guys won't be able to appreciate her beauty as much as he has- or well, does. he imagines her neck with hickeys on it. he feels violated at the fact that he wasn't the one who put them there. he feels violated knowing that she'll be glad that whoever put them there did. he compares not having her to losing a piece of art that you completely adore. a piece of art that was beautiful and baffling.

the whole entry in its entirety was something that i could completely relate to. and while i have been able to live and better cope with losing my first, and so far only, love, i couldn't help but completely empathize with him. i imagined all of the experiences i had had with my first love. all of the extreme emotional strings that tugged at my heart knowing that he wasn't mine anymore. that i had completely lost him. that no one would ever love him the way that i did. the lines that really got me were, "looking at the pictures of you is mourning your death while aware you're still alive," and "you're gorgeous - my kind of gorgeous. a gorgeous i appreciate so fully that it's hard to put into words. a gorgeous that is about a one in a million to me." his entry was my entry. his entry was all of my thoughts written down into a public diary. his words were my words that i chose to keep concealed for fear of more pain.

my roommate's reaction was that this was very bad. she couldn't completely understand where we was coming from. i honestly don't think that she's felt that way about someone. i'm not saying that she hasn't had any really serious relationships. more like... she hasn't experienced that deep of a love for someone. and not only to have that completely ripped away from you, but to find out that, in that moment, the person isn't attracted to you anymore. you are no longer who they desire to be with. you're appearance just blends in with the rest of the crowd. they don't want to be intimate with you or even want to be touched by you. 

and, speaking from experience, i believe that's one of the worst feelings to ever experience. life in itself is a learning experience. and since i was never able to completely understand where my first love was coming from, maybe now i'll be able to get a bit of his perspective.

soooo a couple of updates:

in college now. like it so far. could be better tho.

diagnosed with an eating disorder. in treatment.

maintaining my smallness. (knock on wood)

got a tattoo.

having a slightly okay life.

except treatment is a lot more serious then i thought. i should have thought this out more.

i might come back to this site, i need someone to talk to besides my roommates since i lost all of my friends...