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It's been forever since I've written anything. The time between months. Considered within the frame of a human life, mathmatically, months are entirely inconsequential. However, in a human life, months are vast and endless, each day gaining a variety of experience and actual living time. Thus, even though I have forgotten a lot of the mundane moments of the past months, I have become someone evolved. But that's a daily process, obviously.
Can I say I'm happy now? Maybe. Content, yes. School is over for the year. Yay, I'm a senior, isn't that glorious? No, not really. I just want it to be done with. Things like that are so insignificant. A distraction, really. Something to keep your mind occupied and away from life. How I detest sitting in those little sandstone, concrete block rooms, staring at white faced, black-numbered clocks. It's dreadful really. But, as I stated earlier, that is over for at least another month. More importantly, I have not lost, but involunatarily, yet somehow, voluntarily, given up all that I had. I am words now. Words, and sarcasm, and bohemian shoes. I don't know what's inside, though. I can't find my thoughts, hidden away in their melancholy little cave. I think on an outer layer. Not autopilot. No. A perception layer. The first layer of thought, of realization. My analysis of that, my actual thoughts, seem to be out of range. Radar missed. Skipped. Nowhere, yes, somewhere, but I can't see. Perception is everything. But I can smile. Yes, I can. But is this just a shell I've found? No, I have substance, the question is: is it the substance of who I am? Is it the substance I want? Where did my magic go? My silence? My wisdom? I can't touch base there. I miss it, yes, but I like what I have now. I do find myself regretful in lonely moments of night. Or adumberated gray dawn mornings. I think of everywhere I've been. Of who I have been. Of people I have been with. It's a time of remorse, and yet, a time of gratefulness. This is me now. Every moment of my life has lead me to...this. I picture former friends, people whom I used to cling to for support, people who loved me. Most of them are gone. My words do not reach them anymore. Even when I speak, they are deaf to me. Blind to where I am. It's okay. They all will pass away with time. This is my Renaissance. The very beginning of my rebirth. Copernicus in hiding still. I have yet to publish my discoveries. But it is coming, it is near. In a year or so, it will be ripe and dripping. I am ready. I am.
Amore, Amore, Amore.
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