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Words on screen. Look at that; there they are.

whooooooooosh

Now I do not see the point to this. I have nothing interesting to write. Is this another lesson that Obi-Wan thinks I need to learn? I bet it is. Obi-Wan's actions are all a bunch of over-calulated attempts for me to see the t r u e meaning of everything. The t r u e meaning of responsibility. The t r u e meaning of patience duty respect compassion etc etc

Let's out-guess him. What is the t r u e meaning of this? By writing something everyday, I shall learn

whooooooooosh

well, to spell, for one. Everyone needs help spelling. Jedi need to spell correctly so they can intimidate enemies by their (is there a word for this? Spelling-knowlege? Huttese would be gulaktoosh, I think, but my Basic vocabulary is pretty limited).

Jedi would defeat their enemies by spelling in so many languages that heads explode

ohthisisawwwwwful

I thought when I saw the box that Obi-Wan had got me something important. A new hydropanner, ultra-sensors, binocs -- something to prove that not only did he want to do something nice for my birthday, but he also knew me well enough to know what would make me happy. Something just for me. Not for his Padawan, not for Training, but for me and only me.

Obi-Wan comes in and sets down the box.

Well, you're fifteen.

Yup.

We've been together five years.

Five loooong years.

He looks at me like I'm laughing at him, but I'm not. He says, I got you something.

Is it something I need?

He smiles. Open it.

I do. There's nothing in the box. I am confused.

Obi-Wan is grinning. There's an air-taxi downstairs. It will take you to a landing pad. At the landing pad is a T-12 first-class that's heading to Tatooine. You know what to do from there.

None of this happened of course. In the box was a journal-cube. I had an interesting idea, a new direction to take your training in.

Happy birthday me.

Oh, I shouldn't be writing these things in here. I am undoubtedly failing this assignment. Though Obi-Wan didn't tell me what to write -- (Fill this cube with you. I cannot tell you who you are.) -- I'm sure he didn't want me to fill it with bitter ramblings and made-up wish fulfillments that hurt more than they help. But maybe that's all I am: bitterness and silly daydreams. The daydreams aren't silly, mind you. Thay make more sense than journal-cubes, that's for sure. I'm the only one who sees it though.

whooooooosh

That's the sound of the T-12's engines, starting up, flaming air. The T-12 is taking me to Tatooine.

On birthdays Mom would wake me up when it was still dark out. It was always very quiet the way it can only be at night. She would smile at me and hold my hand as I groggily followed her to the kitchen. She would make sweet tea (never knew where she found the wiupwiupi for the leaves) which we drank sitting on the stairs outside home. We watched the stars until the suns rose and Mom told me stories about sea monsters and princes -- things that I had never seen before, except in dreams.

I've seen many of those things now. Real sea monsters, real princes. They were better in her stories. Always.

And I realize that I am being unfair to Obi-Wan. He is not Mom. He would only make tea, watch sunrises, and tell stories if it served to teach me the t r u e meaning of such things. But I have learned their t r u e meanings from Mom, so now there is one less lesson for Master to teach.

Obi-Wan just asked me how I'm doing with the journal.

Fine, I tell him.

whooooooosh