"perhaps this is the truth"

I know I had said goodbye but it seems that I am unwilling to let this go. I was rereading some of my earlier entries and I realized how flimsy of a writer I really am. At times I write as if Im beyond myself, that these seventeen years of life arent doing me justice but truthfully I admit that Im only trying to grow. Most of the time, Im sure, you read me as I am now. I don't know what spurred me to justify myself but please recognize that I also see what I create. Lately I've begun to fear that the world I percieve and innocently urge on has no account of me. I anticipate my life hungrily but I am not a woman of patience. I won't sit still and wait for some glorious moment of understanding to endow itself upon me but Im incapable of seeking it out for myself. There are no obvious paths to take because Ive made such a great effort to tread upon it all and have thus encouraged a cloud of confusion. It is true that confusion is the natural state of a teenager but it is only so because it has been accepted. I feel bewildered at most moments but what weighs me down the most is the inability to move forward. My understanding is useless because I still fret at the mildest confrontations and the moments that are usually brushed off by most. An innocent hello in the hallway by a friendly passerby is nothing but a catalyst of paranoid emotion and useless suspicion. I did not say hello, I whispered. I didn't smile, I nodded. What is it that restrains me so much? I am confident and bold and I am not a delicate shy woman, Im aggressive and outspoken. Do you see that? Well evidently it depends who your are because in my futile attempt at being accomodating Ive lost my character. Ive become tender and responsive. If I were to live in my own world I would say that it were all a facade, a purposeful pretense meant only to fit in. But the reality of the matter, at least what I have begun to accept is that I am youthful and terribly unprepared. This unrelinquishing attempt at appearances has caused me great mistrust and sickness. I know if I were to act as I feel then I would never be recognized by those that confide in me. But is it so? They say its insanity when you begin to lose the truth but exactly whose truth is it? Im only a common liar who knows no more truth than you.

It is my hope that one day I won't cling to every moment as much as I do now. That a hello in the hall will cease to be an inquiry but a tender note of recognition. But you know I could not live like that. I can't sit still and I certainly cannot accept what I know and let it be. I need to feel every penetrating moment that life can deliver. But again I am amiss for Im only a young girl who hasnt done anything but observation. It tortured me to see you sit in calm refrain but I can also see that it saves you from this ceaseless thirst that I cannot subdue.