The Story of White Aura
When I was born, my mother, a strong believer in the metaphysics, let her friend look upon me for a moment. This woman was not so ordinary, since she could see auras. Yes, auras, what I consider the coloring of the soul. And this woman looked upon me, while I was most likely lying cradled in my mother's arms, and behold, she saw white radiating from me. So, behold, I have a white aura. My mother told me this story and it kind of shocked me. To me, white means pure and innocent. And looking back on my life, I don't consider myself all that innocent. But that is the story of my latest alias. It reflects me instead of something I like and IS me.
So what exactly does this mean? That I'm pure? That I have some higher purpose in life other than what lies in my dreams? Or simply that my dreams will lead me to that higher purpose, instead of being abandoned? There's no answer for now. For, at this age, one cannot foretell such a future without it being more like a dream. Even my goals seem like playful dreams at times, teasing me to follow it. So, truly, I have no goals, only dreams...
- Tiffany Irene Madison