As I stare at my face and figure in the mirror I can\'t help but wonder who it is im staring at, the very essence of my body and soul stare back at me with the look of curiosity and entitlement; still standing as still as my mind will let me, not moving an inch because of the fear of changing something about myself in the blink of an eye, and missing it; as my eyes stare back into the reflectional portrait of the girl with poofy brown hair and brown skinned face she wonders, her mind wanders into a state of unknown and emptiness, it\'s as if her life is a pen and she is the blank sheet of paper waiting to be written and marked on, a story waiting to be finished by someone worthy of finishing it, a picture waiting to be captured in just the right moment, the right time; time is the very thing that determines everything, maybe that\'s why there\'s never enough to begin with, let alone finish.