i feel like i'm living in someone else's nightmare. i don't see myself living in this skin, rather than outliving it. there's a sense around stating that this is in fact progress, but i don't recognize myself anymore. maybe a moment of acceptance has come at last, maybe this is who i truly am, but not who i want to be. never words more true came out of my fingers, i suppose. i think now i understand the boundaries i am confined into, this body being my only friend for the rest of my living days and everything around me, including myself, will continue to change. however, by no means my essence shall change. whatever dreads are put ahead of me, i'll always put my self headfirst.