Zula doesn't like it. See? Thats why I was waiting on her opinion. Honestly? I don't either. Blah. I'll end up changing. Probably taking it back to something simpler? Dumb thing about blogger layouts it that if you're layouts a div, its impossible to have and older posts button. Ehh, I'll figure something out. On to the actual blog.

Have I changed? I wonder. Sometimes I feel like I have. Sometimes I feel like I've matured immensely, like the things that hurt me once couldn't hurt me again. You know, I look back on the way I "used" to be, and the things I "used" to do, and I feel so above them. I chalk all my mistakes up to being young, and tell myself I'm older now. Those stumbling blocks that tripped me then? My legs are too long to be caught up in such trifles now. lol, sometimes, I'm on top of the world.

But then there's other times, when I laugh at myself. I laugh at my insecurity. I laugh at my moments of "fake it till you make it" confidence. I give myself the facts. If I've grown, I couldn't have grown to much, cus I still post the same damn blog almost monthly when I feel like I don't have any real friends, when I feel like no one cares about me, when I can't imagine anyone ever loving me. I put out the same all call, daring one person to tell me that I'm wrong, that I'm worthy of being loved, and cared for, and that I have friends. But no one ever does. And knowing why they don't, I still let that plunge me into another spell of depression, so how much could I have changed?

My godfather tells me its like trying to watch a plant grow. If you're looking at it all the time, you'll never see the centimeters that creep into its lengthy frame. You'll never see the hues of green that make it more beautiful than it was the day before. But if you take a look, then leave for a while, and come back, you can see the real growth, and appreciate it. But I can't stop looking. This blog is nothing but a big mirror. It doesn't tell me about myself as much as it makes me wonder about myself. What am I doing? Where am I going? And wait, tell me again what I'm doing? But blogging keeps me sane, it keeps me stable, so I guess I'll just always have to wonder if I've grown or not. I guess this is another one of those conversations I'll keep having.

Maybe I'm good the way I am? A tad too trusting, a tad too loving, a tad too giving, a little insecure, given to complaining, but never about the big things, and to be so in love with love, that I see it everywhere, even when its actually just the desire for sex.

Maybe I'm good that way?

-A.