Prologue
There was a time in society in which all things could be communicated within a society. I still believed in those days. No matter how trivial the subject, no matter how mundane the action, I always felt there was a need for it to be reported. Communicating was the most important aspect of my life as I was young. It had no standards, no purpose; no intrinsic meaning within its bounds, yet by utilizing it people could create.
It was this whimsical notion that got me into journalism. I thought that maybe by coming into journalism, I would become the voice of those who needed one. I was at the top of my class; I did everything that was asked of me in school. I took the right courses, I studied hard, and I had nothing but an abysmal amount of debt to show for it. I owed more money than what I knew could be found out there, but still I progressed on with the dream. These were my hopes, until the real world came crashing upon them.
I got into the business all wide eyed hoping that I somehow could tell the people what they wanted to hear. The real world had something against that notion. They only want the superficial. They don’t want the happenings of what most people would consider life. No, they want only what amuses the whims of society so that they may live their lives through that of the celebrity. It slowly started the degradation of society’s self-esteem, and mine. I settled into the routine of the mundane, knowing very well that the once bright flame of integrity inside of me was going to turn into nothing but embers.
