I love the idea of a blank piece of paper. Computer screen or parchment, it makes no difference. Just the idea that there's something clean, white, and new, waiting for me to artistically dirty it with swirls and lines that flow together to form letters, words and phrases that impart meaning and life for all to see. Maybe that's why my favorite art medium is pencil and charcoal, I can't get away from the simple beauty of black and white. [sigh] Sorry for the momentary literary episode. But I'm sitting here at the library typing this out waiting for something to happen because it's been really slow behind the desk and I'm bored and getting paid for it.

I've been fighting lies a lot the past few days. I think it all started Sunday afternoon and evening, when I realized that I won't be with my friends anymore. The same, ole, familiar lies of my worthlessness and aloneness have come back in full force, and there's no one in town to fight it with. Well, that's not true, there's just no one in town that I feel comfortable enough to tell so they could fight with me. All my heros and fellow fighters are out soul searching or on vacation or are too busy. So last night I had to fight it off myself. It was weird, I could almost just watch the transformation happen. I was sitting on my bed looking into the mirror to try and speak truth over myself, and it's like I switched from pre-quest plain-looking slouched-over lonely sara to post-Quest beautiful confident worth-loving Sara Beth in a matter of moments. The effect didn't stay for very long though, so I just decided to go to bed and deal with it the next day (although I've been too busy today to stop and think about it..even writing these two paragraphs has taken the past three hours in between helping patrons). I guess some things are just easier to hear from others than it is to try and tell yourself, which is why I've had a whole lifetime of darkness. For the first time in my twenty-one years of life (almost twenty-two now, that's a weird thought), I've been told I'm worth loving, I'm beautiful (I can now count on both hands the times a guy has called me pretty, beautiful, or nice looking-dad included), and that my heart and mind and self is needed. It's still such a novelty that it's not habit yet; believing in these things and hoping for it to be true is still a daily struggle. It makes me look forward to seeing my friends almost every day, and wish that I could have seen or talked with someone the days I don't...just so that I can get a grasp of another human being that I know thinks I'm important and worth loving and lovely.