i've said this before, but i dont think i'm capable of really feeling at the moment. i have a hunch as to why, but i wont really go into that here. i will however say that i find it so strange to be so strangely removed. strange. removed. detached. i'm afraid that i'm gonna turn into one of those evil girls who tramples on people and doesn't care and doesn't seem to feel or anything. i always used to pride myself on the fact that i was compassionate and did my best to understand people and help them and try to make things better and not hurt people. that part of me seems to be a bit hidden at the moment. once again i have a hunch as to why, but i wont go into that here. fucking journal that other people read. tho, that is kinda the point of a blog, eh?
yes. i like writing insightful-ish bullshit and not really explaining it. like why it is that way. i would LOVE to write it, but the motivation for that i'm not sure is right. it might be because i want people to understand me better, it might be because i want some strange sort of pity, it might be because i feel the need to talk about shitty-ish things. but i'm not gonna write it cuz it could also get me in trouble. man i feel cryptic tonight. sorry!
cheers
The group in Mexico. So names of these people: Back row: Maarten, my dad, serena, sue. next row: me, my mom, ryan, hannah, gene. bottom: elisa, stephanie, and jon. = )