There is something beautiful that is hidden in anonymity. Walking down a street looking obviously harrowed or depressed while you know that no one who sees you now will remember your face is a high. Blogging to me was the same high.

This desire was anonymity is starkly different from wanting to be invisible. On the contrary, you want to be seen and noticed, without having to disclose your identity. On the road, it is easier to convince yourself that you are being noticed. Sometimes even 'unwanted' stares feel good because you are being noticed. You can role play and get away with it. How do you do it on a blog? Till someone shouts back, you feel as if you were hollering in a deserted vale. The echo of your own voice your only companion. And that does the opposite of what is sought. Loneliness instead of being dissipated, shrouds you more strongly. That is what happened. And why I gave this up.

Today, more than three years later, when teenage seems like history, I still feel just as stupid and lost. This is not how it was supposed to turn out. What happened to being wiser and older?

In these three years, dreams have been fulfilled and they have been shattered. Dreams have even been forgotten. What scares me is that I have stopped dreaming. Worse, I had forgotten that there was a time when I did dream. I seem to have lost confidence over the years rather than gaining it. I have lost faith in people and in the world. I am not unhappy. But I do not feel bubbly any more. And sometimes I leaf through the yellow pages of bygone days to go back into that bubble again- to jump and dream and hope.

I don't like being older. Though it has certain perks. :p

Still apprehensive, still JustAnotherGirl!