California is more beautiful and more fucked up than anyone can imagine. On the one hand, the scenery is unbelieveable. It cannot be duplicated anywhere else. It's enough to make me go back anytime.

But the quest for the perfect self-image is rampant out there. After a few days, I started questioning myself even, looking in the mirror and thinking that I wasn't having my best of days.

I can't imagine if someone actually felt bad about themselves to begin with.

Everyone is so beautiful and so thin and so tan... it's kind of sick. There are always a ton of people out exercising, whether it be jogging, or rollerblading, or whatnot. And even the people who think they're deep are shallow. My step-sister left that state because she said people cared too much about how they looked out there. But she does the same thing. So I don't see how she can justify that.

I don't know. I love it out there and I will probably go out there next summer with Fatty. Because I hate to admit it, but I don't think I enjoyed it as much as I would've if he were there. And I hate to admit that because that means I'm incomplete when he's not there. And I never wanted to be part of a whole again.

How does one go from being completely complete when they're by themselves, to not feeling complete unless their loved one is there? When does this transition take place? When do you become part of a whole? Because it's kind of scary, especially to me and my massive trust issues. Because he could always go away. And where would that leave me?

As much as I try to make people think I'm a tough girl, the truth is I'm just a vulnerable person. The reason I try to make people think that is because that way I don't have to let them in, you know?

Well, either way, I'm going to go.