BE HER OR BE ME, I DON'T KNOW ANYMORE
LOST IN HER MIND Every time I look at myself in the mirror, I hate what I see. I'm reminded of everything I want to be--and everything I'm not. I loathe, I curse, I sneer. For what am I capable of? A lot. That I know. When I think of everything I want to be, I see the possibility of all of it coming alive. The thought of what *could be* is paralyzing. In my head, in my entire being, I know it can be. I can see it, feel it--and sometimes I even delude myself into believing it's already at my fingertips. So why is it so hard to take that one step? That journey of a thousand miles--why must the first step be so fucking hard? Why couldn't it be as easy as sitting in the passenger seat? Taking a bite out of a burger? Inhaling? Why does it have to feel like climbing a goddamn mountain--every single time? Always thinking, always processing, always trying. I often wonder why all the good things in my life have to be the hardest to achieve. Why can't I lose weight by eating ...