Much drama, in all squares of the stage. In theatre class, the advanced students (all 7 of us) are writing a play. It's a therapy group and each of us need to develope characters. I've got a few in mind, but as I mentioned with Nikki, the hardest part about this play is that we're all drawing characters from our interior selves. We're pulling real instances from our pasts--perhaps our presents--and bringing them to the stage, exaggerated or completely honest, but it never occured to me before that the hardest character to be would be your self. I think, if we all examined our selves, we all have (or had) a reason to be in therapy. What's mine, you ask? Well, that's a bit too personal for the public and to be honest, I don't think I could even do it on stage. No, I'm working hard to draw characters that aren't pulled from my own self (at least, not completely). Other drama rests in the Crucible, but it's all rumors and gum-flapping right now, so I shall comment on that later. I guess the real point of this subject matter is to once again address a topic I've been circling around all week and have been unable to drop it here-- Are you the person you thought you would become? Do you regret who you are? Who are you supposed to be? Are you real? Who are you? Don't take them lightly, but certainly don't dwell. I only ask a thought because I've been tripping over my self for, well, almost the entire year now and it's let on to several rants and rambles scattered about my desk top. Senior Year yesterday wasn't too wonderful, yet it was, yet it wasn't, yet it was. And Senior Year Today, well...I suppose I can check this one a positive, even with all the gray skies and rainfall...After all, I did get a pumpkin today. Carrie Also under new alias as Gillian Bergerac. (which raises another question--why am I so obsessed with pseudonyms?)