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You think it's so easy to change yourself. You think it's so easy, but it's not. True, things don't stay the same forever: couches are replaced, boys leave, you discover a song, your body becomes scarred. And with each of these moments you range change and change again, your true self spinning, shifting positions- but always at last it returns to you, like a dancer on the floor. Because throughout it all, you are still, always you: beautiful, and bruised, known and unknowable. And isn't that- just you- enough?
