Friday, January 20, 2012


I have always thought of myself as living without passion. Just staying somewhere in the middle ground between the highs and lows of emotion. Sure, I'm theatrical. I tend to "perform" my stories a bit. I wouldn't be surprised if others thought of me as operating with a wider range of feelings. But in those quiet moments when I am all alone, I've always done what I could to reign myself into the center of things.

In the search for an explanation for the roller coaster of this week, I can only come up with two explanations:

1.) I have had a really warped opinion of myself and I have always been dripping with passion. Perhaps my melodramatics are more than just evidence of a talented actress.?


2.) Age and experience is breaking me down. I have either lost control, or lost the desire to control, my reactions, thoughts, feelings.

One might suggest that my grandmother's DNA has surfaced and I'm chemically imbalanced...but I'm certain that the evidence from this week's events earn me some justification.

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