Old Xanga...justkeepswimmin480

Reading the blogs of my past mind, I find myself less artistic, more logical and explainitory of feelings, emotions. What has happened to that girl? The one who just wrote what came to mind, no long drawn out post. She must be less innocent, shattered, beaten, meaded. She must have more cracks held together with glue, a heart beating slower and slower. Her face must be drained and pale, eyes drooping with less awe of the world. I loved the girl of the past, she was so content with what this life would bring, and now look at her.

Don't say poor girl.
Say get up girl.
No, not a girl. She's a woman.
Right?