I remember even as a kid I thought too much. I used to wonder if what I saw in the mirror was really what I looked like. or if my cp affected how I viewed myself and no one had the heart to tell me. That’s a weird thing for a child to think, which is probably why I never told anyone. I’m curious about that theory again.

My self-image has been so pore lately. I pick myself apart like buzzards do with prey. Is my mind a predator, and I’m the prey? As I just had that epiphany, I realize how utterly messed-up it is. Your mind is everything. If its against you, then what?

I went and had some photos taken today because my parents wanted “senior pictures”. The photographer is a friend so she thought it’d be cool for us to do them in front of the graffiti walls downtown. I had anxiety, which is nothing new. She kept on showing me pictures as we went. She kept on telling how “gorgeous’’ I was. I DON’T UNDERSTAND. I don’t understand how everyone else can see such beauty, and I see such…such flaws. I speak, I believe that differences make you even more beautiful. Why can’t I seem to believe that about myself? How am I supposed to make people view me as being perfect the way that I am, if I can’t even make myself?