February 11, 2008
I am a girl,
I am a girl with interests,
I am a girl with interests about everything,
I am a girl with interests about everything including you,
I would like you to tell me about myself,
Am I short or tall? Or perhaps in between?
I know I like what I am doing at this very moment in time, or perhaps I am just unhappy?
But I would not want myself to be unhappy,
Ah yes, it is coming back now.
Everything is just beyond my reach, memory stretching, reaching to find who I am.
I believe I am here, and not there.
I believe I prefer juice rather than soda.
I believe I am an artist.
I believe I appreciate being appreciated.
My being is coming back,
I have a sense of who I am!
Perchance it was someone else's memory who didn't like soda, for I know I like root beer, but no, that was mine.
A memory is coming back, stronger than the others, perhaps my name?
No, alas, I am hungry.
I have no recollection of what foods I like although I am drinking a purple liquid that tastes like grape.
Ah ha, there it is!
The name has come back, the very essence of who I am described in this one word.
Elizabeth, the name for Queens, a heavy burden to bear.
I bear the weight of life, made less by my choice of indecision.
I bear the weight of a heavy sweatshirt when it is cold out.
I bear the weight of my right tonsil being larger than my left.
I bear the weight of being sensitive and fragile to others around me.
But I am a girl.
I am me.

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