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I have so many people tell me, I didn’t know you this, I didn’t know you that… I never thought of you in that way, you don’t seem like the person who would… I suppose I do well at categorizing the parts of me, so much so that they become shrouded in disbelief. I smile a lot in real life. I am a happy person, optimistic, constantly trying to present solutions for problems… yet, there is the me in this diary… who in most instances, is the exact opposite of what I so brazenly broadcast to the world. Yet again, I am a contradiction. It’s so easy to show just one side, not only for those people who see it, but for me as the presenter. Why would I burden any of these people in my day-to-day with my innermost year-to-year thoughts? Sometimes I feel as if I am too old to have depth. Sometimes I feel like it’s not worth the effort to live anything other than a shiny existence… but then… but then… I still remember who I am underneath. I still go back and remind myself with these entries. I still miss those nights of stroking the enigma’s skin, of snorting cocaine into my brain to feel the rush of un-control, of dancing until my hair was a mat of sweat… of writing in the darkest hours of night, just hoping he would read and see… see me. The me underneath it all. Yah, she’s still there.
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