A girl, living in this world, finding her way. Cliché -- I know. So maybe this would be better. A girl. Chaotic. Intense. Impatient. A girl. An obsessive compulsive, manic depressive, masochist who constantly struggles to stay tethered to this world we know as reality. A workaholic. Rageaholic. Possible alcoholic. My heart belongs to the arts, though my mind constantly fights it. Writing, photography, movies, all of it. To try to connect, to feel and see what that other felt and saw. Anxiety fuels me. Too attached to boundaries or lack thereof and to breaking them. Difficult but dependable. I give it my all or nothing. Addicted to feeling -- to emotion, self expression. But to feeling so much, hoping it will help mask the other feelings. Indulgences. To feel the intensity. The exhaustion. To feel everything and nothing, all at once. To struggle for that gasp of air above the water, while simultaneously pulling further down into the depths. Searching. Always searching. Happy. Don't mistaken that. Happy. Just tattered. Possibly even crazy. Heartbroken and in love. But okay with that. And wouldn't change a thing.