Dear diary, As much as anonymity is perfunctory for a soul like me, this constant craving for attention baffles

me. For someone bred and brought up in secrecy, whose whole world was a house of hush-ups, and from whom a great deal of silence could be bought for a pittance, these sudden spurts of candidness dont marry up. Although shallowness is detestable, my status quo of an egotist took a pounding, and it terrified me. So all in all a weak creature with foreseeable moves and artillery comprising of halfdelivered jabs and a verging on pathetic character was projected forth. Through repeated such outbursts, a thin wall of negativity have formed around me. More frequent bouts of complacency have been observed. Not for my life can I vouch for ever not being complacent. In fact