I will be honest, for the benefit of anyone who attempts reading this, as much as i would hate to be.Before i begin, i would like to state,i will throw light on instances in this passage which are only my version of the truth and are not absolute.As i add entries to this blog, and if you are fortuitous enough to stumble upon them, you will notice that most of my entries have a obscure similarity.They all probe me into thinking deeper about my emotions,feelings and life.In short, i write when i am despondent.If you are thinking, behind every successful entry there is now a man, i would say you are partially right.
It began at a burgeoning age of five or close.As i stood on an elevated lapidarian structure, i suddenly stumbled and fell into the bushes.Much to my delight and now to your surprise, i fell right atop a cactus plant.While most let out a aghast sound, remorseful and concerned, as the thorn stuck right on my forehead.A reprehensible confession.I enjoyed the attention.In fact for me it was an opportunity, to showcase ,my bravery.With all the fervor, i marched down the the corridor to my sisters classroom.A classroom full of astounded spectators.
As i write this, 20 years hence.I am enveloped with a similar feeling.Allow me to say similar, because they both stem out of the same root.Years ago, it was attention.Today it is the lack of it.
Many of you, i am definate, are now wondering, why should anyone be of such importance, to make you feel a certain way. I shall save that for my next entry.The matters of the heart.
It seems like a paradox.If that certain man ever reads this, he should be ecstatic.For now he enjoys ,what i greatly miss.
It began at a burgeoning age of five or close.As i stood on an elevated lapidarian structure, i suddenly stumbled and fell into the bushes.Much to my delight and now to your surprise, i fell right atop a cactus plant.While most let out a aghast sound, remorseful and concerned, as the thorn stuck right on my forehead.A reprehensible confession.I enjoyed the attention.In fact for me it was an opportunity, to showcase ,my bravery.With all the fervor, i marched down the the corridor to my sisters classroom.A classroom full of astounded spectators.
As i write this, 20 years hence.I am enveloped with a similar feeling.Allow me to say similar, because they both stem out of the same root.Years ago, it was attention.Today it is the lack of it.
Many of you, i am definate, are now wondering, why should anyone be of such importance, to make you feel a certain way. I shall save that for my next entry.The matters of the heart.
It seems like a paradox.If that certain man ever reads this, he should be ecstatic.For now he enjoys ,what i greatly miss.
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