I’ve cut my hair. Went from being the girl who’s always had long hair to the girl who doesn’t need hair ties anymore. I’ve also tried wearing velvet. Bright colors too. For a change, I thought, since I’ve only ever known black, gray and anything dark. I’ve also started planning out-of-town trips, something I’ve never done before. Also started looking for swimsuits to wear out the beach, because fuck being scared to flaunt my imperfect body. I’ve also made it a hobby to visit the bookstore once in a while to read pages from classics because I’m sure that there are things I still don’t know. And I do want to know. I’ve started listening to songs I used to skip. I’ve changed my playlist because the one I had before didn’t sound like me anymore. I’ve cut off toxic people. I’ve taught myself new feelings. Appreciate this, smile over that thing. Don’t entertain this shit, let that one go. See, I’ve done new things, changed a couple, tried a few, in hopes that I would feel different. But, God, it still fucking stings. It’s still sad everywhere. It hasn’t changed a bit. I don’t want to start all over again but I’m honestly beginning to think that there’s no escaping. Because, really, how do you escape from yourself?
— Irally Cariaso