I have no idea what I look like. I live in NewYork now and there are so many buildings that need so many windows and those windows, which I'm sure you woud've guessed look like mirrors and I look at them. I glance at them and I'm not sure what to make of what is shimmering back and so then my new objective is to figure out what's behind the glass and try not to let myself get in my way, but it does and I'm kind of annoyed and tired. My mother I think still will say I used to talk to hear the sound of my own voice, but I've since developed something strange with my vocal chords and I'm going to see a doctor today to find out why I've been hoarse for weeks. I've never blogged before and usually if I write it's screenplays day and night about people who have it better or worse, and who eventually figure out wht love looks like. Hi, thankyou for reading this and I wish you knew who I was so this tiny element of mystery as to who I am would go away and I'd be so familiar. So lets paint a picture: I am the life of the party, I am the person who you call to dance around a certain topic you wish to discuss because it has been hurting you and then eventually we talk about it and after you don't feel better, but you've glued back a peice of yourself, I am the one who had so many friends in highschool and cried alone at night to nobody, I am the girl who has let love operate intoxicated while steering me into nothing. And isn't that worse than off a cliff or into a tree? In a fog-because it's what I don't know that scares me, but I'm glad love is gone, never to call me back, or be the reason I get up, I'm glad and angry, becasue I probably would've died on somebody's kitchen table. I have Borderline Personality disorder and so far from being here I've learned that I don't think I'm receiving enough of anything 'good' in my life and meds are tricky*.