4.8.10

brenda returns to general hospital.



I've been writing in a journal since 4th grade. My first, which was a Slyvester and Tweety lockable hardcover, began with a tale of a young boy named Quincy. He was my (imaginary) lover at the time and treated me like a princess. I could share my opinion as to why an 8 year old me made up a boyfriend (named after Quincy Jones, nonetheless) but I'd rather leave that to you.

This book was the first of many. I've been chronicling my life ever since, but I rarely go back and look at the images/words. The ones I made in high school were very well collaged and full of grief and angst (surprise. surprise.). Oh and a very strong desire to be loved and to feel beautiful.



To avoid re-reading things that would continuously make me upset, I began writing in patterns. It worked for as long as I needed it to, and then out of no where it just ended. I didn't need to be as cryptic anymore... but it looked something like this:



I enjoy ending my journals, sometimes before I reach the last page, on a high note. The last page of this particular journal preserves a phone message from my arch-nemesis-turned-friend and reads as follows:


yo.. it's D. I had this whole speech prepared. I totally forgot it right now, just now. I'll just wing it. I had an awesome time yesterday. You totally rocked dude, we should've done that before. But I guess we didn't. But hey, we have years ahead of us. So we should reschedule. Also in case I don't see you in school today, it was insanely cool that you shared your journal thingy with me. I felt very special and cared for. It was a very cool bonding experience. I love the fact that I turned into a stupid asshole after 3 glasses of wine and I totally hope you erase that from your mind because my tolerance is a lot higher. I don't even know what happened. I loved that you walked me to the train and talked down the whole Pete thing, that was cool. I'm sad I'm pathetic but umm yeah. I just wanted to make sure I told you that. Ok I have to go shower and shit for school and if I see you I see you, if I don't, I don't. OH and if you're wondering how I got your number, I remembered that it was in my yearbook. But yeah alright man. Bye.


I ended this chapter by saying, "I hope I can bring people full circle for the rest of my life. People tell me that it's always fun to hang out with me.. I hope I stay some what the same.. I've learned something about myself- that was worth every dropped tear and lonely night. Let's remember the past and look to the future. It's just me and you."

And that is how I started writing a book when I was 8.
xX.

1 comment:

  1. I wish I kept a journal. What did I even do with my time pre-Internet?? For that matter, what do I do with my time now?

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