i’ve had 17 years to get to know myself, but i feel i know so much less about myself than i did 3 years ago. or maybe less than i thought i knew. maybe now i’m just more aware of myself, aware of the crakcs and crevises, the deep abysyss, and the vast universe within my mind. it’s like the world- the more i know, the less i know. i am far bigger than i can imagine and my brain- the part of i’m allowed to be connected to, is not nearly big enough to hold memories and facts about myself and my life. as quickly as things happen, i forget them, but i don’t really forget them, they never really leave my mind- just the part i’m aware of. it’s so overwhelming to think about and scary to know. i will never know myself. it’s impossible to truly know myself. even if i think i do, im always changing. maybe i’m not really changing, new facets of myself are just coming to light. i can never truly know somebody or make a true connection, because the person i know most about- the only person i’ve know as intimately as i possibly can, and for my whole life; myself; i know nothing about. maybe if i live a hundred years or more, i will know everything about myself. is that even possible? maybe if i don’t kill myself i will find out. maybe that’s something to live for.