the entries in this journal have been getting farther and farther apart. there were only two in all of 2006. it was not an uneventful year.

i hate to think that this stifled voice is some sad byproduct of maturity, but i am afraid that it might be, afraid that i am becoming more capable of managing my emotions and applying perspective at the expense of passion. there is a certain freedom to some of those earlier musings that i miss, a range of inquisition that now seems subdued - whether that is really from some newfound maturity, or just a lack of time, i do not know.

as long as i'm in this introspective swing, it is worth it to take a couple steps back and look at a college career now in its last year. journals aside, i have grown up in so many ways. i am less afraid than ever before. i have proven different things to myself, found love, and embraced activities that matter to me. i have learned more in a shorter period than ever before; i have challenged myself to care about my education, and found that i do. i have gained the new eyes that i sought.

at the same time, however, i have lulled into some unsettling habits. there was first excess, and then monotony; now comes a measured isolation. these things aren't new, of course, but they are disconcerting in these years, where i have found so much happiness and shy away from any ugliness disturbing them.

as much as i know that i've matured, i still feel like a kid. i don't see myself as an adult when i interact with most people, even though 22 sounds awfully like i should. at least i can take solace in being able to hide in school for years to come. i really have no interest in the real world yet.

i think, in retrospect, that maturity is not the culprit for the lack of journals, but perhaps that i have been more emotionally drained from one thing than ever before, and even i would get tired of hearing myself be so repetitively emo.

i guess what i'm trying to say is: maturity is a poopyhead.