Always, Journal-Form[Dear Journal], Dear reader,
The following entries in this journal will now be used to chronicle the mysterious events that have started happening around me. If anything drastic happens, reading this journal will probably explain some of the things youve noticed about me lately. If I die, you shall know the truth. When I die, you shall know the truth. It sounds so ridiculous and stupid to me as I write it: If I die, When I die. I may just be acting paranoid or going crazy from stress lately, but there is a feeling in my stomach, a knot that wont untie itself and it speaks of impending danger.
It all started two nights ago, the depression that is, at the turn of the month. My good friend Isabel, who Ive been dating for the past couple of months, got a call from her doctor two days ago. We had been hanging out at my house all day, then, her mom picked her up when it started to get dark. A few hour
Torn From...Daring to cross the line,
Entangling and fudging whats right.
Concatenating lies and truth,
Encroaching upon the consecration, the
Intimacy steady built, which is now
Threatening to collapse.
Copyright February 2008
Only With TimeFearful of these feelings,
Overwhelmed with these thoughts.
Rancid, bitter-tasting memories
Gnawing for my Heart
In which my Love for you resides.
Violently, I try to run from their grip.
Eluding the train-like feeling
Now lurching towards me, with speeds
Enduring the distance I try to gain.
Sorrow tears at my head through tears,
Sadistically, trying to make me feel better.
Tears and Sorrow have their place
And so do Happiness and Smiles.
Kindness is what should be dealt, instead of
Emulsion in Hurt and Deceit.
Sometimes I hurt so much I want to leave. Other
Times I feel even worse than that; but,
Instead of turning away, I remain, steady as a
Mountain; outlasting the whipping winds.
Everything is solved in time alone.
Copyright February 2008
Espanol-Mi no viveSpanish. Español. It is a creature, hiding among us. Its maw is disguised as a door, its breathing cleverly mistaken for a faulty AC. Lights hang from its cavernous mouth buzz with an annoying energy.
My day is usually upbeat, with the occasional grumbles over a new homework assignment. I try to avoid all contact with the Spanish room; flitting round the doorway only in the utmost emergency. Ive struggled with this beast for nearly a decade now. Ive had only a couple victories that were shortly celebrated. In the dry desert heat I managed to find a rhythm to the monsters ragged language. Using its knowledge against it, I kept it at bay for a while.
When I moved from the dry desert to the peaceful coast, I thought I had migrated out of its territory, a deadly mistake. Using nimble feet, I was able to dance my way out of the class for one year, time enough to build a resistance. The next year, I was caught compl
Last Words of Mr. John ProctorI now stand here before you, to the general audience of Salem, MA, the sun is rising, casting shadows upon the gallows; accused of trafficking with the Devil, Satan Himself, and recruiting good Christians into following my path. Do not be swayed by such lies, my friends, for Satan does not run amuck in Salem! I stand before you, one of the many falsely accused of consorting with the Devil and the dealings of witchcraft. I, like the many other citizens imprisoned and hanged and about to be executed, have been complicated into this unholy mess by the vengeance of a few cowardly individuals!
Think back to the beginning of matters, back to the day when Reverend Parris daughter, Betty was found dancing in the forest with Abigail and Ruth. Later that day, she would not rise from bed in her house. You all did gather round that house like you gather round this noose. When I went to Parris house, even he prayed not to think it be Devils work, for
That Kind of TownI walk along the sidewalk, holding my jacket closed with one hand to keep the cold wind out. My other hand hovers above my head, ready to pin down my hat if a sudden gust of wind snatches it up. My nose is red and numb, but it doesnt matter since I cant feel it anyway; same goes for my hands. Im fine with walking in the cold morning, just as long as I can make the cold transition into numb, then I feel like I can walk for hours and hours. A big bus whizzes by me, dragging behind it a small whirlwind that threatens my hat and eyes with kicked up dust. The driver smiles and waves as he drives by, I wave politely back. Everyone waves and smiles, yet no one stops to offer a ride, even when its raining; its just that kind of town. I duck my head down as a stronger wind whips over the bridge and tries to pull my hat free of its guard, but I just keep walking as if its nothing.
When Im halfway across the bridge I turn towards the rising sun and smile.