Dear Electra,
As I write this, I have a formal writing piece due tomorrow, an annotated script and algebra homework due on Monday, and a pile of dishes to wash, yet here I am right now having made the spontaneous decision to update this old blog. Oh, and I'm supposed to be asleep right now (It is currently 9:00pm). In that case, I deserve a warm welcome back from the dead.
How long has it been since I wrote to you? A year? Meh, I won't check in fear of reading through the letters crafted by such naive fingers; letters that have 'braggart' scrawled between each word. Recalling from my oh so wise memory, I wrote about having fear of the future, underdeveloped feminist propaganda, and being pretentious. As if these sentiments don't make you want to swallow your disgust.
What else has changed about me? Let's see, enthusiasm has escaped from my aura (which has been replaced by the beautiful essence of bitterness), I pull the most traumatised of faces when I'm deep in thought, I prefer to think more than act. Indeed, Electra, a year's worth of events can transform someone.
Well, this letter is a mess. I'm getting tired now. Good night. Who knows if I continue to write more of these in the future.
Stay powerful and beautiful as usual,
- Marian
