I'm searching for my voice. Have you seen it? No, of course you haven't, because I'm not sure I ever had it to lose.
Discovering one's voice is tough work. My inner monologue is a chameleon, constantly changing and shifting to suit my dialogue partner or my current mood. I'm sitting very still these days, trying to hear, straining for a syllable of my voice. Is it catty? Sarcastically biting reaching hard to be witty, when indeed I am not? Do I wax sentimental too much, caught in emotions that you, the audience, find dull?
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