I love looking at pictures. Pictures of my family, my baby pictures, pictures of beautiful places that I want to travel to, homes that I want to live in, and gorgeous woman that could be a goddesses. I could maybe sit and look at picture books all day long. I can get lost inside a photograph for hours, looking at every little detail. I love black and white for its honesty and integrity. It shows so much truth, capturing subtle emotions in a persons expression or the purity of a simple thing like a rock or shadow. It makes you twist your thinking. We do not see in black and white. In our world there are many colors, it is overwhelming at times. But when you see the nakedness you can see the very being that you are looking at. That’s what I love about pictures. It’s a way to express the beauty that I feel about an object or person in a way that another human can visualize. Say if I take a picture of a child, a person might see that photo and wonder who that child is, and where it was taken, what were the thoughts going though his head. They will be able to answer these questions by looking deeper into the photo and also tapping into their own memories of childhood. It’s a collective knowledge I think.

I love mirrors too. In a similar way, yet the images of a mirror are fleeting. I think I have always been a bit vain. Its not that I think that I am truly so beautiful in a female, typical sort of way. Its more the fact that I enjoy the conformation I get when I look in a mirror... yes I am still here... yes I am still human. I used to sit on the bathroom counter and star deeply into my own eyes. I would stare so hard I would go inside myself. And the whole time I would be thinking... this is the true essence of myself. People; that is every other person in the world besides myself, see the outside me. When I talk or laugh or cry they may feel my emotions and look at me and see me, but really what they are seeing is their own perception of me. Not one person will ever know who I truly am. And I feel sad about this. Because as much as I want to have another soul come into my head and understand me and feel my trueness, I would love to also experience another human in the same light. I know it is just a fact of life. But there is something in me that wants to feel peoples pain and joy just as much as my own. That is what life is, is it not? The pursuit of joy and the privation of pain. Really every little decision that I make it a result of me trying to better myself and cause myself any unnecessary distress.

As much as I suffer at times I always know deeply that I lead a charmed life. I am blessed. Beauty in this word is so abundant. As I write this the trees outside my window are blowing wild in the wind. They seem peaceful and fragile, yet they are being so terribly ravaged. The only thing that holds them all together is their trunk, the core, the center. Like us, like me. We all need a stronghold. I’ve lost mine somehow, that’s why I am falling apart. I want it back... my self confidence, my personality, my individuality. It blew away from me in the wind, and I don’t know how to go about finding it.

I used to think I was special. I used to know it, deep inside me. I could feel my spirt, it made me love others around me and gave me the energy I needed to get though a day. Now I feel ugly inside... sluggish boring, tired, alone, indifferent, strange, worthless, not fit to be a human. I hate it. All my negativity. Its so absolutely insane. I know that my life is not bad at all. It is only what I make of it. But I am a selfish, self centered, self righteous little girl. I think my every need should be catered to. I don’t even know... am I asking to much?? All I want is to be more perfect. And I want true deep understanding love. A lasting bond. I guess I used to find much of what I was looking for inside of myself. I looked in the mirror and knew who I was. I hope I can find that again somehow.