yikes hey world, it's me again. It's been long enough really. Honestly, the era of my #life when I used to write daily seems like some kind of misremembered dream, the sort that lingers after you wake up, bleary eyed and shrinking back into the safety of the duvet to escape the chill. I know I've done several of these 'oh wow i used to write things??? wild.' posts, but the mild amazement I experience every time I log back on never seems to fade. Past Bethan had serious commitment to this and apparently she wasn't afraid to be cringey as hell. In a way, it does feel more like second hand embarrassment to read through some of the stuff I've written, as if I didn't experience it directly the first time. I guess that's what time will do. It does scare me a bit that the same thing will happen to the memories I'm making right now; how much of 2018 Bethan will remain in the next five years? How much of myself will twist and contort into new forms and how much of it will pass by the wayside and be forgotten? Or will I just stay the same? I definitely feel more like a fully formed human than I did at 12,(I mean, I hope I'm slightly more self aware at least) but there's still so much left to do. Like a tetris board that just keeps getting bigger- I keep adding little blocks, and sometimes a row will vanish, but the screen just zooms out more, there's always more room to fit extra bricks. How long the zooming lasts is the main question- and if it does, will I have to start removing blocks to keep building? Or will that wall remain standing and unchanged, my personality fixed in time? Forced metaphors aside, I guess how much of current me will be left in a few years time depends on what I class as 'me'. I am in no way qualified to make any judgement on this matter really- if all the philosophers and scientists haven't come up with anything by now, then it's unlikely we'll ever get anywhere conclusive with that question. The nice thing about your own sense of self though, is that it's really up to you to define it. The space inside my own head is definitely shaped and squeezed by the world around me, but I think it must, at least on some basic level, stay fundamentally the same. I'm an incredibly introspective person. I tend to live inside my own head a lot, so I'd like to think I know myself pretty well, and that there's something intrinsic in there that makes me knowable. But then I'll read diary entries from years ago, #poems and stories penned by a young girl looking for answers and she seems like an entirely different person to the woman currently typing this. Maybe I just added more layers, or maybe stuff had to be swept aside for new traits and mannerisms. Honestly, I'm not sure. And really, I don't think that I mind that much. If current me isn't fully here in a few years then that's okay; there's definitely a lot about me now that I'd love to change and work on, and I don't think I can do if I keep thinking of myself as an unchanging entity. I'll still be me, just (fingers crossed) better. I just hope that future Bethan isn't cringing too hard at all this pseudo-deep crap. In other news, I've just started my second year of uni and am currently avoiding all the new responsibilities by reading old #poems and thinking too hard about things. It's nice to be back, to settle back into this weird Adult-#life lite TM, where my major issues are lab reports and talking to cute girls as opposed to the sense of meaningless that summer can sometimes bring. It's too cold here, but my laptop on my legs is a welcome warmth, and a not so welcome distraction- I really need to start cooking tea soon! Sometimes it's just nice to still down and shout into the void for a bit, and save a tiny bit of your current self for later reference. So thanks, void, and maybe I'll see you around sometime soon, Bethan