I'm looking back at it all. I look back and I feel full, then I compare, and sense emptiness.

Try it
Day 01 – Introduce yourself
Day 02 – Your first love
Day 03 – Your parents
Day 04 – What you ate today
Day 05 – Your definition of love
Day 06 – Your day
Day 07 – Your best friend
Day 08 – A moment
Day 09 – Your beliefs
Day 10 – What you wore today
Day 11 – Your siblings
Day 12 – What’s in your bag
Day 13 – This week
Day 14 – What you wore today
Day 15 – Your dreams
Day 16 – Your first kiss
Day 17 – Your favorite memory
Day 18 – Your favorite birthday
Day 19 – Something you regret
Day 20 – This month
Day 21 – Another moment
Day 22 – Something that upsets you
Day 23 – Something that makes you feel better
Day 24 – Something that makes you cry
Day 25 – A first
Day 26 – Your fears
Day 27 – Your favorite place
Day 28 – Something that you miss
Day 29 – Your aspirations
Day 30 – One last moment

It all finally caught up to me.

So I leant on it's branches and faced the horizon.

I think I might have been welcomed by the world and it was fucking excellent to see you again.

Believe what you see as it is, as sometimes what comes across to you is how it's supposed to be seen.

There's little for myself to believe otherwise, and I don't think I want to.
A tree down the street asked me to join him.
I walked home awake, and alive.
I walked home entirely safe, astounded with it's reminder and incredibly grateful.

Now I remember who I was, and what I'd forgotten.

If you were to see what defines what you see as well being focus, has somewhat proved to be true or pure appreciation.

I choose to ignore how monopolised this all could, in a reality, seem, but I'll live on believing.

The tree that lives on the corner.

I will keep on trying.

Just generally a very fucking sunny day.
Fuck

A fucking sunny day in Port Melbourne.

Very fucking sunny.

Everybody hates you when you're on it because you're ugly.
But you probably hate yourself more because you agree with that.

I'm back sitting at a desk and I'm facing a wall.

I'm embarrassed. I'm embarrassed to write, I'm embarrassed to admit this to this place I'm in.
 I can't write anymore, so my words are dull as is the context.
Sad, sad, sad.
I'm sick of that fucking word, and what it means, and it's ability to seep in and around anything potential.

I don't want to get personal with myself.
maybe im scared to see what personally i actually am, or moreso what i've become. therefore what could and are the reasons to what i'm hiding from i already know about the guilt but i'm not sure if i can finally admit how disappointed i am in myself, or even more so how long it has taken me to get to that stage.
i don't even want to write about this shit but i don't know where else to put it. No body wants to hear it, fuck, I don't even want to hear it but I have to understand the reasons as to why I'm back here, sitting in front of a bare fucking wall, guessing I should somehow be starting again and, or, trying to remember who I am, or what I was, what I thought was cool, or why I had even forgotten about all these wonderful things in the first place.
Again with this "sadness"; that of which I shouldn't really be mocking because at the end of this post I'll  probably be either feeling this "sadness", or hopefully, I could walk off pleased with an understanding I can live with, but probably not.
Maybe I'm just scared to find out what actually hurt me was just me.
 I've been sitting here (not in the same spot facing a wall] but sitting here and realising I have been blaming it all on whoever I can remember was around and who mattered.
I dont want to stop blaming them, to only then blame myself and leave them as the innocent. Because they're not around anymore, it'd would only be embarrassing if I only held myself responsible.
I am not prepared to admit to it all.
 Maybe I don't have to, but I might anyway so I don't have to be thinking the life I've lead growing up was abused by the opportunity from others as well as my own curiosity.

I'm scared to reach the point where I ask myself, after I'm finally able to apprehend it all only to then ask was it all really worth it, because it probably never was.

Have you ever tried to persuade a fat person to eat vegetables?

I should have been born an Asian with a Nikon, and I can't even take photos but I bet they can't either.

Some discussions spoken in a risky heat. Documenting Darcie and my scenic ventures down amongst Geelong and the Torquay beaches, familiar faces and recalling old stories.
[Torquay]

Hello Blogspot, it's me and I'm back again - and healthy as ever.
I did it, after two fucking years, I am plump and looking more like my mum, both of which I'm not particularly fond of.
I've finally moulded my lifestyle onto a stable path to success.

I've still got my head upon my shoulders and the hair is filing into a lush.

A lot has happened since my last update, but I'm off to go out clubbing and actually socialise.
Bai