Good morning.
Prom was prom. I suppose I found myself wondering the truth of such an occasion, in which the romanticism and tradition has been drained out of it, all we're left with is an empty shell of mirthful ennui.
I think I find myself falling away from the conventions to which I held. I find myself at times a little more soft spoken, a slightly listless, and lacking a tonality in my voice that identifies those that are alive in the soul. But yet, at other times, I know that I am living more I have in previous days; I find myself a little more defiant and more ready to assume the roles that life, a crazy director, has selected me for. I spoke to Nick about crafting a persona and a careful first impression on a person; and I've realized that perhaps I need to fine-tune that part of me. To be more careful of what I say -- yet, when I hold my reticence, I find myself offending the other party more often than pleasing them.
I've begun enjoying silence; the child who lived with static noise in her ears is now beginning to listen to the thoughts that flow through her mind, rather than drowning them out with anything and everything.
This is my life,
Like someone else's diary,
Edited out,
Factual and dry,
Sterilized for public view ...