Losing touch. Being consumed. I feel like I got my hands on the map but I can't find my compass. Torn into pieces lately by emotions, emotions I haven't had to deal with before. Keep analyzing and overanalyzing, trying to make sense in a senseless box I am trapped in. As if I can be my own therapist. Like I can pay myself in some sick circle of justifications for actions. I really don't understand, although I think I do, a confusing statement in itself. I just feel like I am not fully feeling lately. That I need to turn myself inside out for myself. To remember what I have within me. I forget sometimes, on purpose I think because no one would say ignorance is bliss if it wasn't. There are truths out there that people ignore, simple things that we don't want to see. Sometimes because it isn't what we want to hear, sometimes because it is what we want to hear. In either case looking away and finding meaning in the meaningless, whatever form it takes is so much easier. Take for instance how I try to reflect right now in a sad procrastination attempt. Although is it really procrastinating? Isn't the reflecting what I have been procrastinating? Even now I let it out in little bursts so as to relieve it. Tiny releases of pressure so as to avoid the big one, the mindshattering earthquake that would leave me only with myself, looking in the mirror and not sure I would be all too pleased with myself looking back at me. It is easier this way to tell myself I did think about it. I did my part, payed my penance to me. But the girl in the mirror has not yet received what I owe to her. I don't really know how to go about paying her back or how to move forward with her. I need to take some measures to grow up, while carefully keeping my eye on the line. The grown up line. The line that once you cross you can't really come back. When you are GROWN and have stopped being. The GROWN people live in this land where all is consumed by money and routine. Get up, go to work, come home, go to bed. REPEAT. REPEAT. And so on til they physically die. The growing stages of life have ended and they have died. The body just keeps following the routine because it is all it knows. So please, girl in the mirror I beg you. Help me to grow and become who I need to be at this point in my life. I am going to be out there on my own, with my mirror, trying to make sense of it all it this so called real world I keep hearing about. I promise to acknowledge you and let you be. I am just so scared and your smooth glass embrace has yet to comfort me.

So one day I realized I had found myself, but wasn't quite sure what I found. Counting down to buy, to live, to love, to learn, to leave, to die. And I don't want to live life counting, granted it is okay once in awhile. But I don't want to spend my entire life counting and neglecting the things that aren't associated with counting. I can't be sure what those things are at this point, since everything has become a counting goal. Example: I will be happy when I live on my own. I will be happy when I finish school. I will be happy when I find my soulmate. I will be happy when I am happy. Why can't I just be happy now? It is a wonderful thing to have goals and things to look forward to. But sometimes just waking up and knowing I am alive should be reason enough to be happy. If I lost everything I had right now, I would be so sad. But if I got it all back imagine how ecstatic I would be. I want to be that way now.