Creative Writing Exercise # 2

[Salinye]

Thanks to all who participated in the "Old Sayings" exercise. I really enjoyed reading all your writings. Also thanks to those who are still participating in the story writing exercise in the stories forum. (I still am getting mine from thought to paper) Anyway, here is an easier one that I took from my old board. I rather like this one because it's a little bit of insight into you. Feel free to write if for yourself, or one of your persona's/characters. Just tell us who's perspective you're writing it from. :0)

 

I like to call this one "Journal Entry" or "Dear Diary". Write this piece as if sitting down at the end of THIS very average day and write a journal or diary entry. This is a free form writing, there are no rules or guidelines as to style or structure.

 

Diaries are funny things. Sometimes they capture the beauty and wonder that lies in the mundane and ordinary. The human thoughts never sleep. Things are not always as they appear.

 

~Salinye

[Lady Celes Crusader]

Dear Diary,

 

Today, I've return to home, after a wonderful three day vacations over the North shore of the St. Lawrence River. The moutains are a majestic scenery change, compared to the flat land I'm used to. I've spent three days exploring the silent beauties of these giants, away from the noise, the pollution and the stress of my usual life. It was me, my love and the car, although it pinches me to know that my cats would be on their own for 2 days.

 

It was wonder by day, romance by night. I think we've growned addicted to jucuzzi tubs, as they were so soothing. That while drinking a couple of glasses of porto was just so exquisite. I think I'll miss that.

 

Yeah, I'm writing to you because I'm already a bit nostalgic. But hey, when we'll build our home, believe me, I'll have a jacuzzi tub in it! That's a promise.

 

Hum... by thinking of it, I'm glad to find out that my cats are fine. Although Cambronne almost intimidated my in-laws with his big round yellow eyes when they came to feed him.

 

Write to you later.

[Tasslehoff]

Dear Diary

 

 

Slowly rolling over I realize that the constant peeping in my ear is my phone ringing.. Yes.. at 8 something AM my phone decided it wanted to ring.. Slowly grabbing it and answering it; though I wished to send it flying across the room. After waking up a few seconds later I realize it is my girlfriend; Rachelle, wondering if we are still going to that car show.. Slowly mumbling something along the lines of : Umm. Ack.. bleh..Yea..Its early..Sure.. Be there pick you up at 10. I say my goodbyes and hang up. Slowly kicking off my two blankets [its summer time, no more ten million big ugly comforters] and wander off to take of the usual morning rituals.. Breakfast, Shower and well, waking up!

 

Well after finally waking up, I headed out into the bright sunlight to get into my truck and go pick up my lady.. After the usual 15 minute drive, [ I swear, I could drive these roads blindfolded ] I roll up to her Cabin and walk up to the door to meet her walking out into my arms.. Soon we are heading back towards town, except this time we stay on 1-5, merge into the fast lane, listenin to tunes and tear off down towards Red Bluff where we will catch 36 into Chico.

 

OOC: TBC at a later time. lol

Edited May 18, 2003 by Tasslehoff - AngelXIIX

[Salinye]

(ooc I decided to take advantage of this exercise to explain why I might be less active from time to time. :0))

 

Dear Diary~

 

Two lines. Funny how something so simple can change your life so completely isn't it? Seeing the two lines caused me to sit back for a moment and reflect on my children. Emma, my five year old. We yearned for her so badly, not knowing if we could have children. No child's birth could ever be more appreciated than how I felt when she was born. Then of course, Carter. My sweet little mommy's boy. I love him and wonder when he'll feel too cool to be a mommy's boy. I dread that day. Then ofcourse the twins. That was a rocky road coming. I remember being 6 weeks pregnant with them and sitting on the ultrasound table staring at the ceiling refusing to look at the screen rambling to the technician.

 

"If you could just find a heart beat, it would mean everything to me. The last two times I've had to come in here over the last year pregnant, they've had to tell me that my baby had died and that I would be miscarrying shortly. So, if you could just look extra hard for a heart beat...."

 

That is where the technician interrupted me. "Honey, I think you're making up for lost time, we have TWO heart beats here."

 

What a day. :0)

 

So now, here I am, 28 with four wonderful children under the age of five. I get strange looks and of course comments. I think it would help if I didn't look like I a 21 year old who started having children at 16. Anyway, that's off topic entirely....

 

So I'm sitting here, staring in shock at these two little purple lines. One in the big circle and one in the small circle. I pick up the box to read what I already know. "Two lines = pregnant. One line = not pregnant."

 

Pregnant? What? But...the twins are only 7 months old, and I'm already overwhelmed, and I haven't lost all the weight from their births yet, and I'm always high risk to lose babies in my first trimester as it is without not giving my body at least a year to heal in between.....

 

Ofcourse, then came the tears. I'm such a cry baby! I cry with every major emotion. Happiness, sadness, fear. I immediately felt guilty for crying. I was not crying because of the baby. How could I ever not want a baby? I was only crying because I was overwhelmed and a bit shocked.

 

When I told my husband he wrapped his arms around me laughing and said "OH GOOD!" I think he must be clinically insane!!! Does he not remember what it's like when I'm pregnant? Sick, tired, sometimes grouchy. This time four children will need my constant attention! What if this pregnancy makes me not a very good mom for a while?

 

"That's insane." He says to me. "You're such a wonderful mother. I'll help you." He will too. I'm so thankful for such an involved and helpful husband. He's my best friend. I love him. For us, marriage is not work, and from what I understand, that is rare. We've never yelled at each other ever, or called each other a degrading name. Have we been mad? Absolutely. We just know nothing is worth harming our relationship over. I think I sometimes take for granted how blessed I am.

 

So, today, the shock has warn off, and I'm actually feeling excited for this baby. I mean LOOK AT MY CHILDREN!

 

 

How could I ever be sad or regret such a beautiful gift? The answer? I couldn't. It may be hard for a while. I may get comments from rude strangers. (some think I should walk around with bunny ears on, others fear perhaps I don't know what birth control is) However, sometimes, birth control doesn't work and we get small surprises.

 

Now, I think I've written enough. I need to go finish making lunch. Wouldn't you know I"m already starving? Gotta eat healthy. :0)

 

Diary, it was nice to talk to you. You're a good listener. Maybe I'll start stopping by more often.

 

~Shelby

[Nobody of Consequence]

Ok, so those long dark hours twixt midnight and mourning are now gone, along with any chance of sleeping, and I'm so thoroughly restless that I'm doing this instead of watching Pokemon, since I really cannot advocate any show which suggests it is somehow good to capture wild animals for gladatorial purposes, and I'm not watching the news since I have a fairly good idea what it will be (war updates, terrorism updates, the next step in the endless political cycle, the next step in the endless sporting cycles, the next step in the endless financial cycles, the next step in the endless weather cycle, and a shaggy dog story - blech).

 

Ennui is about the only thing worth thanking the French for. And I would if it seemed worth doing.

 

The problem with mental illness is that sometimes it's hard to know where rational thoughts end and irrational ones begin, and vice versa. And let's face it, unless Jennifer Connelly has a few hours free, I'm pretty much stuck in the blurring for the rest of the day. Until I can sleep again. Until I can fold myself in the margins, and let all become marginal, softly shimmering in and out of focus with the endless cycles of dreaming.

 

Yeah, ok, even this too will pass. This is just part of another cycle, and by focusing on that, I can discern that which is eternal. I really ought to meditate more, but I just have too much on my mind. *boom, tish*

 

Breathe in, breathe out. Let night hitch up its skirts and tiptoe away, avoiding the bright eye of another day.

 

It's kinda funny, but I used to always think the phrase 'Nothing lasts forever' was kinda, well, sinister. Now, it's about the only thing I have.

 

 

OOC - edit for spelling mistakes

Edited May 22, 2003 by Nobody of Consequence

[Ayshela]

Dear Diary,

 

Thank the gods for you, perhaps all in my life which not only hears but understands. How did i ever get here? i wasn't supposed to have lived this long. i should have been dead so many years ago, i don't understand how things could ever have gotten to this year, much less this point.

 

May the gods lend their strength to the parents of preteens, if strength is to be had. Having both teenagers and a preteen, i firmly prefer the teenagers as they can be reasoned with!

 

This morning began, as many do, with my middle child off at her dad's so i woke up to see my oldest off for school and wake the youngest and get her moving toward her school day. As an added bit of complexity, we have my step-grandson for a couple of days, so the morning rush needed to be gotten through without waking the sleeping two year old in my room.

 

What in particular was the spark to my youngest's temperamental tinder this morning, i'm still not sure, but she spent the entire morning stalling, shouting at me, throwing a temper tantrum far more fitting to my grandson, shrieking "i hate you"s across the house, and finally stomping off in a threatened attempt to run away. Seeing me standing on the porch talking on the phone she came back long enough to realize that i was talking with her dad, bringing another round of "i hate you"s and her stomping INside, this time.

 

i suddenly realized what a part of the problem was, came back in and asked her when the last time was she'd taken her meds (which she insisted on being in sole control of). She collapsed in tears and said she didn't know, they'd been put away at her dad's where she couldn't see or reach them. *sigh*

 

i had to spend the before-school part of the morning wrestling with her about getting ready to go, going to her dad's to get her meds, trying to get her to school somewhere close to on time, come home and check on stuff here, go BACK to the school for the volunteer appreciation assembly, come home and take care of stuff (and drink a gallon of coffee, a very necessary thing) and now have to go pick her up for dance class in a short while.

 

My son has blossomed out into a wonderful, warm hearted human being with the full social schedule of a normal teenager and a grade point average i would have killed for when i was in school. My older daughter has her difficulties, but is mostly a reasonable being with guts enough to buck the tide and defy even school authorities when she believes they're wrong.

 

Neither of them were easy at this age, but i don't remember them being *quite* this volatile or vicious. Will the youngest come to a point of being reasonable and reasonably responsible as well? Preferably before one of us gives up and dies, believing in the depths of depression that that is what the other truly wants?

 

Kids.. gods help them... gods help us... i wouldn't send them back for anything, but some days i'd give them away for a while. :-\ i'm sure the feeling is mutual.

 

i know this isn't any fun for her either. i've never met an eleven year old who truly liked herself, myself included. But gods, diary, why does she have to share the misery??

 

It's a good thing i have so much hair, and that it's as long as it is. It makes the evidence of tearing it out less noticeable. *sigh* Between that and your shoulder to cry on, i may survive these last of preteen years.

 

Thank you for letting me vent in the only space there is understanding to be found. i'll write again next time the kids turn loose and i have a few moments to collect coherent thoughts.

[Vigil StarGazer]

Journal entry:

 

Today is an escape from all the other yesterdays.

The simple waking means that everything had become the past.

‘Did I really do this right?

What does he really mean when he says thank you?

Did she give me a weird look when I chatted with her?’

A past that haunts, and cannot be undone.

The only thing left to do is to ponder, and thus letting it haunts you again.

It’s just a nightmare.

 

The thirty odd sit-ups became the ritual that answers to no God,

or else why didn’t I have those killer abs in the commercials?

Yet I keep doing them day and night,

hoping one day I’ll be.

This is call faith.

The days waiting for an interview call are a killer in every way.

I thought I’ll be happy doing nothingness, but all I had was restlessness.

Go out and play ball instead.

 

Remembering why I was practicing, because

I was never good enough to play with my friends.

The lay-up was wrong.

The un-merciful bounce when it rolled out of the hoop.

Took one more step then I should’ve.

You must think: “There is no board” when you shoot.

At last throwing the ball in frustration, when there is no realization.

It’s an exercise.

 

Back home to be grandparent’s cabby.

Beating down and taking names while driving

Nothing else to do.

Too old for games; too young for reality.

Inspiration refuses to come no more.

Except to escape from now, dream of invincibility

I am a pathetic God in my own world.

A God, nonetheless.

 

Eat, Sleep, and perchance to dream.

hunger of flesh and soul leaves me more empty.

Bedtime, reviewing my life again.

Too much of a coward, too co-dependent,

Too bored to care for details.

‘I must wait my turn. She’ll come and it’ll come.’

What a load of bullshit, but i'lll do my 30 sit-ups.

Thus this horrible day will become yesterday,

metamophesis into the nightmares of tomorrow.

[Doppler]

Dear Diary,

I see you are entertaining more then just me here.

I thought I could trust to open you and only see my musings.

Yet as I think back I can see the signs...

Yes they were all there, If only I had seen them for what they were.

Very well if that is the way this must turn out then so be it.

I think I should see other diarys and you other people.

It's not you it's me.

I wish you the best in life, TRAMP!

 

=)

 

On now to the real resons for me being here.

I am not very eloquent when it comes to writing but I wanted to make sure to take this opportunity to publicly say how wonderfully lucky I am to have Shelby (Salinye) as my Wife.

She is an amazingly talented woman, an excellent Mother to our 4, soon to be 5 children, the wife most men can only dream about, and the force behind my happiness.

 

To steal the words from Billy Joel..

She's got a way about her. I don't know what it is but I'd hate to have to live without her.

 

Kerry

Edited May 23, 2003 by Doppler

[Peredhil]

As always when I begin writing to you, I find the Moody Blues song running through my head...

 

"Dear Diary,

What a day it's been."

 

Despite the recent challenges of late, it's nice to find that if I stay open, honest, take responsibility for the past, and present what I've done to avoid a repetition in the future - I keep finding God has already been there first.

All the turmoil of last Friday. Coming home and suddenly becoming aware that in my focus on work and my middle son constant consuming need for boundaries and attention, my youngest had managed to miss school 45 of the 161 days! And to find it out because Military Police came to investigate why!

Heh, that's when a First Aid response mentality, so often teased, of praying first, and then focusing on problem solving really came into its own.

By starting my efforts with reading the bible to center myself and clear my mind, I was reminded that Job spoke knowingly "God's grace and favor is upon me" in chapter ten. In the physical world, as I read on of all that he endured (although he always claimed God's favor, even when he asked Politely to die!) it wasn't until chapter FORTY-TWO that it showed in the "real world" and he was here.

The lesson was obvious. Do all that I could, and stay positive that God keeps his promises. A reassuring thing when hearing such worst case scenarios as potential career change for me, and civil charges for my wife (because she was the exhausted one who'd overslept after I was 2 hours gone each morning).

And events have proven it out.

Sitting and mapping out any possible thing which could prevent a son from missing school and implementing them all. Thus when questioned by any one in authority, I could show I'd already thought of their issues - and what steps I'd taken to ensure this wouldn't happen again, really made each interviewer reassured. Consistently by the end of each interview, the person had moved from antagonist to a teammate, helping me to ensure that my family would be taken care of. Given the initial mind set from which they all started, they must see some really sicko people walk through their doors.

Which brings up the support of friends. What marvelous friends I have! Stepping forward without being asked, volunteering to accept in loco parentis powers of attorney just in case I should be ill, to ensure all kids are on the bus - I'm really blessed and slightly surprised. Loyalty and love, it's nice to know it goes both ways.

Giving up the ticket and weekend to visit friends in Florida was an obvious choice. Deciding to drop the college classes until further notice when I'm six credits away from the Bachelor's Degree, after all this time, wasn't as easy, but just as obvious after some prayerful reflection. It was just my stubborn tendency to nibble at problems endlessly until resolved, and pride. Those can be put on hold - after all, if you're twenty-five years into your 'Four year Degree', a bit longer won't make much difference.

Well, this window of writing has ended, time to wake the next boy up to begin his day.

To continue the Moody Blues...

 

"It's been just like a dream.

Woke up today, wasn't where I should've been.

For Goodness Sake, what's happening to me?

Quite writely, yours truly, dear Diary..."

[Quincunx]

Week Three

Sleep: High (10 hours, slow to awaken)

Sensitivity: Low (mp3 player at 50% and still sounds dull)

Intellect: Medium

Emotion: Low

Body: High

 

He claims it's because he never crawled as an infant, but the problem is more common than that: he wrote the description to capture the image in his head, but I can read those words and find a different interpretation. The legal pad's edges are all given over to upside down Us topped by Os with noses, moving around the characters of this page of Freeland, according to the words we're bickering over. I move the little square (a window? a cabinet? a futurstic recycling unit? he hasn't decided yet) across the page at whim because he didn't include a qualifier for it, only a listing that suggests left to right as English is read left to right.

 

This is how I earn my keep. Any maid could come in and do a HELL of a lot better job at home maintenance, but a good editor is hard to find. Being the apple of the author's eye doesn't hurt either. (A little 'hmph!' from the sentimental part, labelled Rydia. Shut it. I didn't see you being any help two weeks ago when the core was bare. For that matter, who's footing the damn hospital bill. . . .oh. Right. Him. End parenthesis.)

 

. . .

 

I screech to a halt not two inches away from the wall. Minta reactions cantering body across the room like the dog frolics after a too-short walk, and her reflexes are better than mine. I should put the headphones back on, now--having their cord tether me cuts down on that quite a lot when I write and brood on all things internet (Plain walking is another tale.)--but I took them off because the noise passed through my ears without recognition. Read at some point that the bacterial population of your ears increases seven-hundred-fold during an hour of wearing headphones, probably up from three-hundred-fifty-fold but statistics quoters don't care for context. Neither do some other quoters I know. Brood--with headphones on.

 

--Tzimfemme, the naked

Changing the quotes under my signature became untrendy a few years ago--why?

[WrenWind]

Dear Diary

 

Today was a reminder of all the right reasons i married the man i did . On our way to run some errands we stopped to get gas. at the station was a woman asking the attendant if she could help because she had locked her keys in the car when she stepped out of it to ask for directions . It was raining and cold and the attendant was not very helpful. My hub got out his AAA card and his phone and called for help. then he went and stood in the middle of the road and directed traffic around the woman's car till the tow truck showed up 15 min later. soaked to the bone he got back in the car with us and we finished our errands.

 

my baby swam in T.O.P.S. time trials today and improved all his times . And My hub stepped up tp volunteer to time as not enough parents for the older group hung around to do it .

 

No head ache today ...makes for a good day

[Salinye]

Dear Diary~

 

Well, I write here to update you with much sadness. One pregnancy that arrived unexpected and overwhelming had turned into an excitedly awaited event! However, I now have come to the realization that I will lose this baby to miscarriage. This will be the fourth one lost this way. It will be a hard couple of months, but I've gotten through it before and know I can get through it again.

 

I can't help but wonder how come KJ and I create so many babies that don't make it past two months. Makes me worry we have some odd genetics. Anyway, I'm thankful for the children I do have. We've decided that after this miscarriage we're not going to prevent. With as many miscarriages as I have I think we'd rather take any healthy pregnancy we can get regardless of the timing. :0) I would hate to prevent for two years and then have it take over a year to get a healthy pregnancy. We definately want one more child.

 

Anyway, the good news is, that it was only one baby this time. Not twins. Last time I miscarried twins, that was more emotionally hard for some reason. Anyway, thanks for listening. I thought I should update you, you're always so supportive. My comfort is in that I know I have a Heavenly Father watching over me. It's actually a blessing to lose the baby so early. I mean if the pregnancy is not healthy, I'd rather lose it now than 6 months along.

 

~Shelby

[Quincunx]

Week Four

Sleep: Medium (7 hours)

Sensitivity: Medium (mp3 volume up for Renaissance, down for Mellencamp. Note to self: find equalizer doohickey again, download and use it)

Intellect: High

Emotion: High

Body: Low (stepped into steel sewing machine, toes barely felt it)

 

Well, the sentimental side (labelled Rydia) has finally let go after four days of complete dominance, and I have to do some heavy spin control. Thank goodness that a) my honey finally got interested in this summer's travels and Rydia can't handle stress.

 

However, thanks to a friendly kitten at the pet store today still lingering in my mind, we didn't pass silently as we usually do. Why must you keep cooing over that brat, I said, as the real life kitten was to her a surrogate child. Well you have your silly veneration of grownups, she said with exaggerated feminine touchiness, but the rest of us have children. At least with those, you're expected to worship them and maybe get a result.

 

Gods help me--I agree with her.

 

I want to become one of the living goddesses, a wise and witty and wizened woman. In all my life I have known only six women who qualified--thought I had seven but all that is periphrastic speculation (see, I do it even now). Only one of those had children and I honored her for overcoming that and keeping her stature. With a child, you give it your intellect and emotions and body as a seed and pray it grows enough of its own that you can reclaim yourself. Most can't do it. Anyone can breed; not everyone can survive to be a goddess.

 

So many resolutions have fallen aside. Instead of remaining celibate, I learned to love relationships. Instead of killing myself, I killed my child the one time I did become pregnant, before it could even be called fetus. Goddesses do not lose their resolve--well. . .they do, but then they are goddesses no longer. . .

 

None are.

 

It's going to be a sleepless night if I don't go bury reality in an overdose of Everquest.

 

--Tzimfemme, the naked mage

Metaphors make mud clearer

[Peredhil]

Peredhil hugs Quincunx in wonder.

 

You know...

I simply love you.

[Rune]

Dear Journal.

 

Tuesday was plagued with emotional disarray. After a long and emotional night the gates to hell were lifted and he uttered the very words I had longed to hear for the last year. But those words were not as sweet to my ears as I had imagined them to be. The sun did not shine into the room in joyous rapture as was dreamed. Birds did not sing, flowers did not bloom, the only thing that penetrated that very moment was the sound of a sigh coming from his lips. He exclaimed in all his glory that he did indeed have a problem. “I’m sorry” was all I could say, although inside I was angry at him for just now realizing the reason behind the torment I had been put through for so long. He turned his back to me and sighed once more. I cried but he did not notice. I touched his arm and he flinched and pulled away. The world spun around me as my vision blurred from the tears that were now streaming down my face. I collapsed into the soft pillow and buried my face hoping that it would all resolve itself by the time I needed to lift my head to take another breath. But it did not, and today I sit here dealing with the emotional aftermath of his proclamation.

 

Having done this similar exercise a few weeks earlier I realized that leaving him alone would just wield the same bad behavior that he was attempting to overcome. As long as he had a vehicle and the bank card he would find a way to purchase the liquid needed to fuel his addiction. Even to the point of buying it and then consuming it so quickly that he made himself ill just to hide it from me. I had to miss work, and I knew I would pay the price for missing the time by deducting from an emotional balance that I did not have. Having done that in the past, and attempting suicide as the alternate bankruptcy to an emotional bank overdrawn I knew that it would be horrible attempting to recover. But I had no choice. My supervisor was somewhat understanding. His on the other hand was none too pleased.

 

His primary doctor was called and after meeting with him he was given contact information for a mental health physician. Someone who could talk him through this or provide him with the chemical means to overcome his addiction. But the number remains discarded in the kitchen drawer and although he has managed to survive for the last 5 days or so without the substance I wonder if it will last.

[Rhapsody]

Dear Diary,

 

I have been away on a massive guilt trip. Rhaps has neglected to her duties as a sworn member of the Pen. And has slowly let her writing "skills" whittle away. Blame the SAT's or finals or the absolute passivity summer reduces one into. I'm quite lethargic, sadly. My recreation consists only of massive finger metabolism...typing. More particularly IM. Excuse me a minute while I answer one.

 

*

**

***

****

*****

 

Sorry, got caught up checking out all the fly emoticons they've got here. My friend says I need decaf. She just doesn't understand. She is, by the way, awesome. I was paid to say that.

 

Anyways, I'm dreading the passing of the next few hours. Before I have to pay a visit to good ol' college prep school and take a practice SAT II. Why is life based around standardized test scores? You would think in this day and age, America would get past ranking each other. Freedom and equality right? Riiiight. **Will not get caught up in philosophical discussion. Will not. Will not.**

 

The Mavs lost. Hence, my conspicuous abscence form the board. Depression has a way of stifling any semblance of activity. Will be basketball deprived for the next few days and Mav-deprived until November.

 

Right, I'm here to write. Oh well, won't be the first time I've gotten off topic today. Until inspiration strikes, I'll let y'all in peace. And go search for a serviceable sig.

 

Always,

Me

[Illianna Wolfsong]

Dear Diary,

 

I've recently found a new home where I can ramble and read, laugh and cry, ache for people I have never met, and rejoice in the power of simple words.

 

I find each new thing I read is more apt than not to pull upon my own experiences forcing me to re-evaluate, to re-live, to re-feel. This is the awesome might of writing... to evoke emotion... to arouse memory.

 

-Til Soon, Diary

 

 

Off topic:

 

Moments ago, Zadown was reminding me that yes, I do need to at least attempt to sleep. Now, Salinye has reminded me of an old wound.

 

Salinye, I am so very glad that you have the love and support that you do. You also appear to have great resilience and hope. I hope with such phenominal strengths to help ease your pain, that your heart won't bear too much weight for too long.

 

 

Dear Diary,

 

It is 9 years ago.

 

I told my husband that I am pregnant. He said, "Oh, that's just great! Is < friend > interested in adopting it?"

 

My heart sank. Why do I have to be happy alone? Why does my joy have to be trampled upon?

 

-Til later, Diary.

 

 

Dear Diary,

 

It is 8 and a half years ago.

 

I was induced today... two weeks late. I almost lost the baby in the delivery room. He is alive, and he is healthy (after basically being revived). We didn't know the gender of the baby before he was born. I have a son.

 

My husband said to me, "Well, I should have guessed. I wanted a girl. You knew I wanted a girl."

 

My heart sank. Why is a child any less a gift if it wasn't of the requested gender? Why am I being held at fault for something that should not matter anyway? I will just be happy alone.

 

-Til another day, Diary

 

 

Dear Diary,

 

It is 7 and a half years ago.

 

I flew home to visit my parents for the Christmas holidays. I told my mom first.

 

"I'm pregnant."

 

"Does < husband > know yet?"

 

"No," I tell her.

 

Later in the day, < husband > calls. I told him over the phone.

 

He asked me not to tell anyone about it, "You can get an abortion." he tells me.

 

-Til.... later I guess, Diary

 

 

Dear Diary,

 

It is almost 7 years ago.

 

I was induced again. Two weeks overdue, again.

 

I told the delivery room staff I didn't want my husband in the delivery room... I wanted my best friend... my son's godmother, my unborn child's godmother, to be there. They chose to break their "only one person allowed with the mother" rule and let < husband > come in as well. I didn't want that! I didn't want him there... I didn't want to be touched, I didn't want to have to look at him, I didn't want to include him! I was in pain... I didn't speak up.

 

"Get away from her!" my best friend shouted at him as I pushed on cue. How could I not adore her?

 

It was my friend who held my hand. It was my friend who held up my head.

 

No complications this time. Son number two was born with nothing but perfect features and perfect health.

 

"Shit, just what we need... another boy. At least he can wear hand-me-downs." Said < husband >

 

"Get out of here now, or I will personally beat you within an inch of your life you f'ing bastard! You don't deserve her, and you don't deserve any more right to this child's life than the nothing that you give to the first one!" < friend > shouts at the top of her lungs.

 

He left.

 

My son is beautiful! I am beyond caring or feeling injury from what that man says to me or expects from me.

 

-Til another day, Diary

 

 

Dear Diary,

 

It is 6 years ago.

 

I didn't tell him I was pregnant. He didn't deserve to know. I figured in a few months, he'd realize it.

 

Why didn't I realize I couldn't trust him for support?

 

I slumped into < husband's > lap.

 

"I had a miscarriage. I had a baby, and I've lost it." My whole body hurt. My soul hurt. I had dreaded telling him that I was pregnant but I had not dreaded this child. I had already played so many dreams of his or her lifetime... and so much pain knowing that lifetime was over, and I had never held my child in my arms. I had never even named my child.

 

"We didn't need another one anyway." was his monotone reply.

 

I crawled away, and haven't stopped crying.

 

Why must I hurt alone?

 

-Til, Diary

 

 

Dear Diary,

 

It is 5 years ago.

 

I didn't bother to hand him the divorce papers. I left them on the floor where the piano had been, next to the porceline cake topper from our wedding cake (minus the head of the groom). By the time he finds them, my sons and I will be 300 miles away.

 

I feel so free!

 

Why did I wait so long to stop being alone?

 

-Til soon, Diary

 

 

Dear Diary,

 

It is now.

 

Life isn't easy. I have more on my plate than I think I can handle at times, but I have the love of 3 men. Two of them call me "mom" and the other is the man I plan to grow old with.

 

-Til another day, Diary

[Quincunx]

Week Two

Sleep: Medium (8 hours)

Sensitivity: Medium (mp3 player, and computer, on the fritz--guesstimating)

Intellect: Medium

Emotion: High

Body: Medium (lifted computer easily, but digestive system troubled)

 

Diaries are too feminine. That's my misogyny speaking, the angry and outward offshoot of self-loathing. To be lumped into this thread is making my skin crawl, but if I don't write it down, who will know?

 

My own computer is still trying to reconcile two sets of FAT files, and failing. We'd taken it to a repair center, and my honey had spoken first, to relay misinformation he was trying to give second-hand. I was annoyed but overruled. The technician jabbed at it pre-Windows and handed it back altered, supposedly fixed. I was skeptical that the problem was gone, but was overruled. Sadly, I'm also correct, and marginalized onto my honey's much newer computer for the fifth day. Damn, why'd it have to break down just after I returned from four days of computerlessness and mystery?

 

I want my mystery box back dammit! I need to return to the endless question of how this inconsiderable personality fleshes out into that online persona, and to find the true mysteries--those combinations that should not be--and be enraptured, and to cultivate my own mystery; without the computer, I'm confined to sifting for a secret life in the folds of drab suburban fashions. There is no mystery here--the exposed navel is neither proud nor aware of the swell behind it, the common baggy pant legs conceal the slash-by-number cuts from the common razor blade, and nothing of the soul rides in a single bumper sticker.

 

There are no goddesses to be found out here. Time, then, to raise a wake online and become one.

 

--Tzimfemme, the naked mage

I dress more demurely than you do

[The Portrait of Zool]

Sleep: Low (4 hours)

Sensitivity: Dull

Intellect: Narrow

Body: Cramped

Mood: Purple

 

I awoke from a dream at 2:30 AM of investigating the death of a man. His arm was rotten, but his wound hardly showed until he fell apart. Actually, this was the background of the dream. What the dream was actually about was the extraordinary quality of the jacket the dead man was found wearing. I didn't know the man.

 

I am excited by the prospect of finally getting a decent computer. Well, the start of one anyway. Luke bought twenty HP workstations on ebay for about $40 each. They include case, power supply, motherboard, graphics card, cd & floppy, and one VRM. The motherboards have two Slot 1 CPU sockets, for 733 Mhz to 1 Ghz PIIIs. Luke agreed to sell me one for a $10 mark-up.

 

Foremost on my mind though is the upcoming hearing for the custody of the boys. I have a lot of confidence in the outcome, and nothing but dread for the process. I told my attorney I had called CPS twice about their mother. He wanted to know if they found any wrongdoing. I said no. His immediate response was that that was immaterial. In his experience, CPS often found wrongdoing where there was none, and no wrongdoing where it was actually blatant. I agreed that that was my experience as well, there in that small town, and then marvelled at his smoothness, at his conviction. What if I had said yes, they had found wrongdoing, would their reputation suddenly swell?

 

I am paying him for one thing, to get my case to the judge - and he doesn't come cheap. He is very good at what he does. I know that for the judge to decide in our favor he needs to have real reasons to base that on, but that discussion leaves me swimming in a sticky pool of relativistic self-justification/self-doubt. I wonder how many people live within their own rationales. I wonder just how many people believe their own lawyers. I wonder how many people live their lives like one court case after another, dizzily moving from one self-justification to another as a means to their own ends.

 

I think human law is rarely about reality. Conviction. There's a word for you: Conviction.

[Salinye]

BUMP

 

(I was re-reading through this thread and WOW what an amazing insight into people. I thought maybe I'd toss it back up instead of putting a new life question up in case some new people want to add to it or incase some older people (not in age lol) care to add some updates. :0)

 

*hugs everyone*

 

I just like to learn about you all so much!

 

~Salinye

[Aardvark]

(Written on the inside front cover)

 

Dear Diary.

 

I'm sorry I had to rip all the pages out of you, but this toilet paper crisis is getting desperate. It was either you or my penthouse collection and I really can't bring myself to wipe my arse with pictures of naked chicks. Just thank your lucky stars you came in hard cover, else I'd have nowhere to write this apology.

 

Gotta go. Number two, again.

 

I should never have eaten that curry

[Zariah]

Dear Diary,

 

*sigh* What a day! I have had to deal with Soooo much today.

 

And to top it off, tomorrow is my birthday (well I guess it's actaully today...)

 

Oliver and I are ok. I hope....I am so sad that i have to go away for my birthday, I would rather spend it with Oliver. But, Family first.....

 

What will I be getting from my parents?

I hope not too much, for I fear they will hold it against me....

But a new scarf, a new hat, and maybe some CD's is all I am sure of....

And I asked for a bike toget me around campus (I know, I am L-A-Z-Y)

 

 

I was really excited about some new music I downloaded from the idea from a friend I was talking to online: The band is called The Irish Rovers.....I downloaded 8 songs and they are really funny.....not hilarious, but very enjoyable.

 

Did you know? I ate coco Puffs for the first time about ten minutes ago. My family is all health food freakness at home, except for the occasional cookie or ice cream bar. But YUUUMMMM those were so so good....a bad breakfast thing I think, but Yummy snack.

 

So much has been going on lately, and it's really made me evaluate where i stand with the world.

 

I think lately the Devil has been hitting everyone hard. It's a shame too....because the timing couldn't be worse for us, but I bet he is laughing so very much. Grrrrr.... well I'll show that low life. I am gonna remin dedicated to God, to my friends and family, and guide those in need. And the harder he hits me or my friends, the HARDER I will be Christian and LOVING. So There!

 

Anyways.... I am pretty wiped. For some odd reason, Jenny decided to call me. A whole month of ignoring me and treating me like crap, and then all of a sudden we are"girlfriends" again? I don't think so. I told her I need tome before i can trust her or even really decide if she is worth all the effort again. I kinda hope that unk in and made her realize that she was not very nice. But I admit it was nice to catch up.

 

Well, I need to get some sleep.

Bye, dear ol' Diary.

 

-Katy

[Ozymandias]

Tuesday, March 30 2004

 

Dear Diary,

 

Today was thought-provoking, even by *my* standards. Hence, you exist, if only for this calendar day, and never again.

 

I got fired today, and it felt good. I'm lazy, I know; with lazy ass-ness being only a step away at all times when I'm feeding the lazy monkey.

 

This has lead me into nothing but trouble in the workplace. Go figure. But no, I can't let it be as cut-and-dried as my workplace performance issues. Mm-mm, nope. Peter MUST fit things into his little comfort zone.

 

Sigh. The zone's much bigger than it used to be, but still. I'd dearly love to kick my own ass within seconds of ever finding a time machine sometimes. I mean it. I think beating myself bloody might do some good...sometimes.

 

Anyway, I can't just call off my laziness at poor job performance. Nooo. I've hung onto a deadend, thankless job utnil the bitter end like a lamprey, what is it...four times now? Out of eight jobs? Lord, your servant is well versed in the art of stupid and will attend his other classes now.

 

No, it's been five out of eight jobs.

 

Note to self: Must stop habit of ripping eyelashes out in semi-futile attempt to improve appearance of eyes by removing unsightly eye booger. It's scarring, and ain't helping me look any prettier.

 

Never did buy Mom's suggesttion of Baby oil being a useful remover; but it strikes me again that I should probably test it before I pooh-pooh the idea.

 

Work. Back to work.

 

Learning How was the king of the dung heap. Long story short, all the petty bickering, backbiting, backstabbing and horrific abuses of authority were beginning to change me, and not for the better.

 

I was swiftly becoming (in the space of a year and a half, no less! ) the person who I had left behind...wow, about fifteen years ago now. My joy was being crushed. My faith in my part God's plan shaken as I took to viciousness, vindictiveness and selfishness all too easily (with the ideal in mind to fight fire *with* fire, of course).

 

I don't like who I was then, and I don't want to be that way now.

 

But despite all of that, compounded by anger at the pain and indignity I watched these people inflict on so many so very wonderful people who inexplicably worked or still work for them, I remained in the company, at that store.

 

Why? Because I'd yet AGAIN convinced myself it was better here because I had a job, and wouldn't have to bother going out and applying elsewhere to only be rejected. Learning How was hellish, but the money still came.

 

Spooky, eh?

 

Stupid nervous habit. I need those eyelashes. Stupid eye booger.

 

 

I got a second job early on, but that was only because I'd squandered all of my extra funds over the course of the year to the point of living paycheck to paycheck come Christmastime that year, and I had some friends at a local store who were willing to hire me on as Christmas help. The job just sort of stayed around afterward.

I no longer remember why I thought it would bea *good* idea to hold down two jobs again.

 

Now that I think on it some more, I *think* it was the co-workers. It's always wonderful to have co-workers who all get along.

 

I slowly shifted more and more over to the good job side of my work hours without quitting even though I dropped below even the twenty-five hours a week mark ere long, now because of the perennial reasons, AND becasue I was too proud to let Roz win that easily.

 

Pride goeth before the fall, neh? Thankfully, I wasn't given that lesson- this time.

 

 

Finally, I shifted myself over into a full-time position at the good job, and kept working the pitiful work hours I was given at Learning How, since I didn't *have* to stay anymore.

 

Bascially, refuse to quit and keep working there while dictating hours I pleased.

 

A good idea, in theory.

 

In actuality, I got my butt fired this morning.

 

So, this leaves me with a full-time job that will barely pay my bills, incidentals be damned. Also, it's a store in a busy mall, and I'm getting a crash course in full training at last while we're about 50% understaffed.

 

I hurt, I am exhausted, and for some reason my eyes aren't blurring anymore as I stare at this screen.

 

I *still* feel like dancing. In a club, bar, living room, wherever. I just don't think I'd last as long as I would've right after I got the news, about fifteen hours ago.

 

I don't even like dancing.

 

Ach, you sneaky bastard, diary, you've goaded me into an episode two. By dint of it being 3:19 AM and I am more underslept than usual. Also, my beer seems to be empty.

 

Goodnight.

 

Bliss out.

[purple_shadows]

Dear Diary,

 

I have not been myself recently. I find myself at a transition from adolecence into adulthood, but I was never ready for this. I feel forced into my new surrondings, and though I love it and I am learning what it truely means to be independant, I never got to be a kid. All my life I've been expected to be older than I am, and because of it, I've been lonely. And though i've leraned to take this as a fact of life, I'm not sleeping well again. If infact I am sleeping at all and not merely just laying with my eyes closed in the darkness as time passes by. I don't dream, and when I do, my dreams are strange and disjointed, beautiful yet terrifing, and it moves me to the core.

I don't want to be this way forever, diary, but something tells me this storm is going to stay for quite awhile, and I'll ride it out like always, but my heart won't be in it. I'm tired of these ups and downs. the only constant in mylife is a friend who lives 90miles away, and has been there since kindergarten.

For once I want something stable. For once I want someone who isn't going to leave at the drop of a hat. I don't want to be alone forever, and yet it seems inevitable. And all the books in the world aren't going to change that.

[Regel]

Dear Diary,

I am home at last and another long day is almost over.

Music washes over me the way tears wash the dirt off your face.

The price I pay for trying or rather pretending to be in control of my life.

I am a white rat in a difficult maze.

The scent of something I want on my nose, facing yet another dead end.

To stubborn to quit, to stupid to admit I am over my head and too proud to ask for help.

 

Another hard lesson to be taught in humility by my creator I guess.

I know I should put my trust in him but the devil is always working the other ear trumping aces with self doubt and uncertainty.

Throwing curves and change ups into what was once straight and predictable.

 

Seems to be the only constant in my life is that the rate of change continues to accelerate.

I look at the abject failures around me and wonder if I am not one of them.

Ah yes, that's why I struggle isn't it.

Edited April 5, 2004 by Regel