I probably said this before, and I probably sound like a broken record --
but today, once again -- I was walking the streets of this gorgeous city, and against the reflection of the display window, I fell in love with my perfectly sculpted legs. Narcissistic maybe, but they have to be the hottest legs I have ever come in contact with. Again today, I checked them out, I went to think up a compliment for this person with these gorgeous legs -- only to realize they were my own.
I look at my photos and I see nothing but a child, or at least something that resembles a child, someone very very young, with a fresh face and a magenta smile ... what's gonna happen to me when I don't look like this anymore?
I wonder, really -- once I can't sing as pretty anymore, once I can't laugh as hard anymore, once I don't look as pretty, and once my beautiful legs begin to show signs of age and express varicose veins, will I get treated the same?
Will people be as nice, will boys try to learn Spanish to impress me? Will random people wait for me to walk from the turnstile all the way to the front door just to hold it open? Sometimes I wonder if things are really easier because of the way I look.