christ666's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Mimetics You couldn't tell me back then that I didn't know who I was, or what I stood for. I look back on those years with confusion and buried asperity, often wondering how a person can be so oblivious to what he would become, and yet be so grounded in their identity. I grieved over the loss of my certainty, what was surely my baptism to adulthood and all the cynicism that went with it. It was an incredible time, and it's greatness is probably the cause of my inability to let go. Maybe it's not so much that I admired the time, but rather that I felt so cheated out of my explanation for how sour the later years would become. Back then, I was merely existing under the banner of idealism. The rebellion of unwaivered conscience, free spirits, It was a tumultuous time. Our teacher was under prospect for termination due to collegiate certification matters. The whole department was lacking in popularity, thanks to the finite audience attendance to our performances. And our indulging, vulgar routine didn't help to gain respect. But we didn't care for such trivial matters. We lived for the moment of the role, the sound of our voices echoing back from the acoustic of the auditorium, and for the chance to pretend to live a life much greater (or tragic) than ours. The opening night was approaching. It was the first of the year. Many of us were fresh from our chrysalis of thespian reconstruction, and we were ready to stretch our wings for our first performance in front of an actual crowd, popping our dramatic cherries. We were going to be actors. 5:02 a.m. - 2010-01-28 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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