of all the great tragedies written or spoken of through oral tradition, mine is of the harlem conundrum.  if not completely contradictory to my introverted persona, i could enter the class with a sunny disposition and lay waste to the name-dropping denizens of my own personal hell.

that's what they expect, though, right?

i'm not a leader, though.  i'm a lone wolf caught in a pack of undesirables.  i will fall away further, using powers of persuasion to incite revolutions so i can catch a moment's rest and retreat further into these rage-fueled conceited undertakings.

this is really vague...even for me.