I wasn't born a Diva. Being a Diva was something I acquired by trying to emulate the average Victorian heroine.I wasn't always a rambler.In fact my writing used to be a lot simpler. Allow me to illustrate with an example.
Here is something that I would have written as a six year old.It is titled 'My Pet'(based on a vague recollection of a similar 'composition' I had written when I was in school).
I have a pet dog. Her name is Jojo. She is twelve years old.She has brown fur and brown eyes.She likes to eat chicken,biscuits,ice cream and chocolates.She also likes to drink milk. She goes for walks everyday. She likes babies and barks at all the other dogs. I love my pet very much.
If that was then then this is now.'My Pet' as written by La Diva.
I often refer to my dog Jojo as my pet;perhaps out of conceit and sometimes due to the pressures of convention. Jojo and I are practically siblings.We've grown up together and lived under the same roof for a good twelve years.I've always maintained that a dog is like a sibling who never retaliates. I may have taken the canine trait of submissive 'human worship' for granted; but Jojo was,is and will always be the real 'Diva'.
Age has not marred the honey-like hue of her golden brown coat, nor has it diminished her fetish for chocolates,cookies,ice cream and chicken.Jojo can put the Atkins diet to shame by surviving on nothing but milk for days.Walking,as far as she is concerned,is a social event that involves hurling uncharitable curses at pariah dogs that throng the streets. She is nevertheless maternal towards puppies and little children.We share a bond that transcends the trials of adolescence and the perils of young adulthood.I sometimes wonder if she is secretly human.
I have always felt that children express profoundity by cloaking it in simplicity.Why must growing up be so painful?