Citadel for the Broken

Today I went back and looked at my old Xanga account that has been abandoned for over three years. I forgot how much I loved that account. It's interesting to see the things that you blogged about in the past. I must confess, I thought I'd read my old self with disgust, but that was not my experience. You realize how much you've grown just by rereading yourself. Clicking through the links felt like revisting an old friend, or more like running your fingers down through the dust that has covered a loved book that you seem to have forgotten. I looked at the old profiles of friends and had to laugh. My favorite had to be Brittany rising out of a box and staring at the camera. Alas, those carefree highschool days are over and all that is left is our memories. Looking at us now it seems that we are fragmented, though slightly improved versions of our former selves that have moved on and made other friends and have found new things to love. I must wonder why gazing through our cyber memories makes me feel like I've seen the ghost of a beloved friend. ...And why do I feel so cold toward the future? Days like these make me want to revisit those times and see who we were without the kaleidscope lens that the present presses over our eyes. What is it in us that makes us long for the past even when we know that are future is all that can be?
These days I find myself busy writing papers, reading plays like A Doll's House or running to class so I won't be late, but trying not to sprain my ankle. Back then I was attempting to act and dreaming about writing fantasy novels for teens. I spent hours trying to find new metal bands to listen to and carving out my identity trying to structure the image of who I thought I wanted to be. I raged on the inside to be something great, but found that it's hard to shape yourself with hands made of clay. I find that I'm a broken version of who I thought I'd be, and somehow I'm okay with differing from my original plan... because I'd don't want all those things anymore.
Well... I feel like if I try to write much more I'll over anaylze and delete what I have. I'll try to form a theme with imagery and I have other work to do. So, you will have to cope with having this terribly imperfect copy on my page. I'm sorry if you think it sucks... no actually I'm not.
PS: Dear reader if you don't listen to the music that is to the right of this post while you read you're missing out on part of the experience. Please don't cheat yourself.
Yours truely,
Nicole