Reading betty's journal

So I'm doing my makeup in the bathroom and I look up so I can do my eyeliner. I catch myself staring at me, right into my eyes, and I stop what I'm doing and just stare back at me. Who is this person called Betty? Who is this girl who is too old to be where she is in life, but too young to have so many wrinkles? What have I accomplished in 30 years besides having a good time? Still staring at my face, eyeliner forgotten in my hand, I tilt my head a little to the left, then to the right. My eyeballs stare at the mirror, never changing position, ever watchful of this new discovery of me. This person staring at me, the one who everyone calls betty - she isn't betty. I'm betty. Me. Inside of the multicolored hair, and peircings and tattoos. I'm right here, but nobody can see me. I will be forever known as Betty the funny chick who works in a bookstore and has ever-changing hair. But right now, staring into this mirror, I can see my soul. The part of me that is only tripping down to earth for a short stay. Just checking in, soon to check out.
Then I shake my head to clear it, and continue putting on my eyeliner. I finish getting dressed and head to work. Another day, another dollar.

I am just me, searching for simplicity.........and a good hair stylist

I do that all the time. It gets kind of scary sometimes, cause my mind sort of goes into a different place or state and I don't really understand why this "person" is who I am... and when I die, my body will get buried and stuff... but where will my mind go? Where will the feeling of "I am me, because I am" go... just disappear?

Well... I suppose it will go to something or someone else and be them... and it won't feel like me anymore because it will be them. It all gets too confusing.

*shrugs*

"I'm free to say whatever I, whatever I like if it's wrong or right, it's alright."

I remember finding myself in the mirror for the first time in middle school. It floored me.

I am just me, searching for simplicity.........and a good hair stylist