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Latest Journal Entry

December 21, 2005

My First Thoughts

Why do I become like this? Sometimes I feel so empty, like I'm missing something that was never there to begin with. Maybe people just need to be depressed sometimes, but I think it's becoming a problem. I can't sleep at night and I'm never able to concentrate on the task at hand. I wonder why I feel this way. Does everybody feel this somewhere in their life? Does everybody see the world changing before their eyes and worry that maybe the end will be near and they don't know where they stand?

As I grow older, my mind becomes more and more complicated, and my views change from simple and inoncent to distorted and difficult to understand. Even for myself. I find it hard to believe that one can stay the same throughout their whole lives. Maybe they will have the same disposition, but isn't everyone's outlook constantly changing? I may feel this way now, but in a month's time I will have forgotten I ever felt this way.

It is not just are minds that change, but our bodies as well. Sometimes I think I am feeling my hair grow or my eyesight become worse. Every time I cut my nails they grow back in a different way. I wonder what would happen if I never cut them. Would they break and split so that the edges are ragged and ugly or will they grow so long that I'll end up with the sharp claws of cats I'm always wishing I could have.

Just by writing this I am changing. Every time I think too deeply, my head begins to swirl and change my decision about something. I wish I could just sit back and enjoy things without analyzing every aspect of my life, but I can't. I have too much time. Just leaning against the cold metal walls of the bus without a companion to talk to.... my reasoning is altered.

I'm always saying things I don't mean to, or do things I know I shouldn't do. I do not wish to end up in a void of other people's ideas and thoughts and have none that are truly my own. I see so many like this that it nearly drives me crazy. How do they become like that? It's like they have a warped version of the world in their mind's eye and they're feeding off that version and not paying attention to the world around them.

Maybe I'm the warped one. Maybe it's my vision that is blurred and unable to see beyond my own troubles and doubts. Perhaps all this writing is just a selfish way to make people believe what I feel.

Maybe this is why I write. Not just this, but the stories that spin in my head and come out onto paper so that others may read and enter the world I have so dilegently created. It's my own world that I sometimes find myself wishing could be reality. To have fairy tales come to life not just in my mind, but in the real world as well. Mother says I cannot see the difference between these worlds yet instead of helping me she encourages me to tell others about this world so that they too may experiences the feeling of excileration and I become more wrapped up in this sense wonder.

This world is the real one. I know this yet I still create others so that my imagination may grow and I can become more inspired. The problem is that I get bored with one world so quickly that I must create another before the one before it is truly done with me. I fear I will create far too many worlds, all of them undone and people begging me to finish the world that they met me in.

It is so funny how my flow of thoughts, written on this document, came and went within half an hour. They will most likely be unimportant at a future date, but I became so cacooned in them for that moment in time that I did not pay any attention to the world around me. Now the time has flown, my brother is sleeping, and must go get dinner started. This was an extremely interesting session, but the feeling to write has almost left me. I still have not completed my story, but my cheeks are red from an unknown heat source.

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