2504069
It's been a few years since I've been on suicidegirls.
There is a black hole where once stood an 18-year old ready to start college, to start life. Blue hair and piercings. She knew exactly who she was, and exactly what she wanted.
I have brown hair now. And one piercing remaining- nestled in the left cup. The things I love now, much like the piercing, are not showing. I do not brandish ideals like swords, I carry them closer like crosses and daggers. Instead of thinking of things like love and freedom, finding both much harsher in reality than my romantic mind could ever imagine, I think about concepts such as home and purpose. Older and colder now I am starting come to the pivotal question, if I am no longer the girl I was 5 years ago, then who am I? What do I want? So I figure here amongst all these brave and proud women is a good place to start.
It's been a few years since I've been on suicidegirls.
There is a black hole where once stood an 18-year old ready to start college, to start life. Blue hair and piercings. She knew exactly who she was, and exactly what she wanted.
I have brown hair now. And one piercing remaining- nestled in the left cup. The things I love now, much like the piercing, are not showing. I do not brandish ideals like swords, I carry them closer like crosses and daggers. Instead of thinking of things like love and freedom, finding both much harsher in reality than my romantic mind could ever imagine, I think about concepts such as home and purpose. Older and colder now I am starting come to the pivotal question, if I am no longer the girl I was 5 years ago, then who am I? What do I want? So I figure here amongst all these brave and proud women is a good place to start.
There is a black hole where once stood an 18-year old ready to start college, to start life. Blue hair and piercings. She knew exactly who she was, and exactly what she wanted.
I have brown hair now. And one piercing remaining- nestled in the left cup. The things I love now, much like the piercing, are not showing. I do not brandish ideals like swords, I carry them closer like crosses and daggers. Instead of thinking of things like love and freedom, finding both much harsher in reality than my romantic mind could ever imagine, I think about concepts such as home and purpose. Older and colder now I am starting come to the pivotal question, if I am no longer the girl I was 5 years ago, then who am I? What do I want? So I figure here amongst all these brave and proud women is a good place to start.