10-13-09
Journal Entry #1
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What happens, if everything you believed in disappeared, beyond your reach?
If all you knew came crumbling around you at once, and you did nothing to stop it?
If you fell down, and you kept falling, not knowing, or caring, where you landed?
When the line that kept everything in order, suddenly melted away, and took everything with it?
This is what I ask myself everyday. Why things can never stay the same, and why one day, everything must fall. Why the world has to keep moving, and once in a while it's nice to seize the day.
This journal is my life. Why the world just simply isn't fair, but perfectly perfect, all at once.
To whomever is currently reading this, these stories are the stories of me. They may be sad, they may be happy, but overall, they are strange, twisted, and lovely, all the same.
In my world, there is now difference in light and dark. Black and white, red and green. A color is a color, a sound is a sound. They have everything, and it shows how no two beings are the same. One could clone themselves and still find to be different from the other.
All people are brave in their own way. A person could live their whole life in fear, but they always have the bit of courage to stand up to themselves.
Eyes are the passage to a new world. A world of glitters and glamour, or darkness and dirt.
My favorite movies are the ones that I understand, but don't make the least bit of sense. These movies, are the ones I don't watch, but listen to. When I think of when you watch a movie, all you are doing is staring at a screen. When you listen to them, though, you don't hear, you process. You slowly go over each word and comprehend the meaning of each one.
I think that rule applies to almost everything. If you watch, you see. If you touch, you feel. If you listen, you learn.
There's a simple rule for everything. Not many things are terribly complex if you get right down to it. It's all in explaining it correctly. You could have someone explain why mattresses are squishy, and if you chew down on it, it's simple. Mattresses are squishy because they just are.
Well, that's it. This is where I shall pour my hopes and dreams. And for the poor saps who actually read this, good luck surviving in the mind of a deranged teenage bookworm, by the name of Maka Albarn.
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