You know, there really isn't much going on when you look at my life from the outside. A dark-gray canvas called "lots of work", with a bottle of pixie-dust-like, glittering happy moments scattered across it. But there's a lot going on on the inside. In a way, I'm both the principal player and a silent observer. I remember when I was a kid and I was really interested in seeing if I could watch long enough to see myself growing. I was almost sure it could be done. But of course, I never did catch myself in the act.
This is different though. If I sit quiet long enough, I can just about see myself growing inside. Growing... up. More mature. Like, all my little immatureisms melting away, and me becoming more... more truly me, I guess. It's weird. And I wish I could write about it without boring you to death. I'll try sometime soon, I promise. I also promise you some more posts. I just need to articulate all the amazing stuff that's going on inside that you can't see from the outside.
I love your faces. Goodbye.
This is different though. If I sit quiet long enough, I can just about see myself growing inside. Growing... up. More mature. Like, all my little immatureisms melting away, and me becoming more... more truly me, I guess. It's weird. And I wish I could write about it without boring you to death. I'll try sometime soon, I promise. I also promise you some more posts. I just need to articulate all the amazing stuff that's going on inside that you can't see from the outside.
I love your faces. Goodbye.
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