Sept. 3rd
A diary. Scary. Once it's on paper it's public. The world can know my thoughts. It's funny, with the amount of time I get alone you would think that people knowing my thoughts would be no big deal. Sorry, try again. Which reminds me of my life. Sorry, you have not chosen the winning life. Please place your 10 pence in the slot and try again.
I wonder why they're making us do these. They probably want to make the psychiatric ward at St. Mungo's bigger, but first they want to make sure that they won't be wasting their money. They'll collect these at the end of the year and check them out, try and see if Hogwarts students are crazy enough to fill up a ward. They better start renovations now; I have enough problems to last a lifetime.
Okay Harry, enough with the melodramatic BS. Other than the fact that somebody is repeatedly trying to kill me I don't actually have it that bad. I have some great friends. Although I really wish Hermione would hurry up and break it off with Ron so Dean can ask her out. Ron will mope around for a while. Then he'll start going out with Lavender (actually that's just a guess, although I do think they'd look god together) and he'll walk around on cloud nine for a few months and make fun of Seamus for being gay. Which, I know for a fact, he isn't. I rarely have serious conversations with Seamus but when his being gay came up he was quite serious. Some people are serious all the time and you never know when to believe them. They spend so much time trying to bring themselves across as Serious and Honest that they end up sounding fake and cheap. Seamus isn't like that though. He could care less if some people think he's gay. He knows that I know he isn't, he knows Dean knows he isn't, he knows Hermione knows and he knows that Neville and his parents know. Actually he could care less if everyone thought he was gay, because he knows that he isn'tand that's all that matters to him. The point I'm trying to get across is, I wish I could be more like Seamus Finnigan, I wish that knowing the truth myself was good enough for me. But it isn't, I always have to prove myself, for Dumbledore, for Lupin, for Sirius, for my parents, for Cho, even though I don't like her anymore. Seamus never feels like he has to prove himself. I actually remember the conversation we had.
"Doesn't it bother you that everyone thinks your gay?"
"I don't think I'm gay."
"But still, your friends, even the teachers."
"Listen to me Potter. I could go around treating girls like they're prizes, I could walk around with a girl on each arm and one on the floor to wipe my feet on and everybody would know that I'm not gay, but then who would I be?"
"I don't know."
"I don't know either, and that's the worst thing Potter, to not know what you are."
I wish I was Seamus so bad sometimes. That would shake everyone up. The Boy Who Lived, the Quidditch hero, the champion Seeker wants to be someone else. What a revelation.
Look, I've already written more than I intended and I need to get to tea. Maybe I'll write later. Or maybe I'll throw this book in the fireplace. Here comes Hermione. Ron must have told her to go boil her head. He is so daft.
A diary. Scary. Once it's on paper it's public. The world can know my thoughts. It's funny, with the amount of time I get alone you would think that people knowing my thoughts would be no big deal. Sorry, try again. Which reminds me of my life. Sorry, you have not chosen the winning life. Please place your 10 pence in the slot and try again.
I wonder why they're making us do these. They probably want to make the psychiatric ward at St. Mungo's bigger, but first they want to make sure that they won't be wasting their money. They'll collect these at the end of the year and check them out, try and see if Hogwarts students are crazy enough to fill up a ward. They better start renovations now; I have enough problems to last a lifetime.
Okay Harry, enough with the melodramatic BS. Other than the fact that somebody is repeatedly trying to kill me I don't actually have it that bad. I have some great friends. Although I really wish Hermione would hurry up and break it off with Ron so Dean can ask her out. Ron will mope around for a while. Then he'll start going out with Lavender (actually that's just a guess, although I do think they'd look god together) and he'll walk around on cloud nine for a few months and make fun of Seamus for being gay. Which, I know for a fact, he isn't. I rarely have serious conversations with Seamus but when his being gay came up he was quite serious. Some people are serious all the time and you never know when to believe them. They spend so much time trying to bring themselves across as Serious and Honest that they end up sounding fake and cheap. Seamus isn't like that though. He could care less if some people think he's gay. He knows that I know he isn't, he knows Dean knows he isn't, he knows Hermione knows and he knows that Neville and his parents know. Actually he could care less if everyone thought he was gay, because he knows that he isn'tand that's all that matters to him. The point I'm trying to get across is, I wish I could be more like Seamus Finnigan, I wish that knowing the truth myself was good enough for me. But it isn't, I always have to prove myself, for Dumbledore, for Lupin, for Sirius, for my parents, for Cho, even though I don't like her anymore. Seamus never feels like he has to prove himself. I actually remember the conversation we had.
"Doesn't it bother you that everyone thinks your gay?"
"I don't think I'm gay."
"But still, your friends, even the teachers."
"Listen to me Potter. I could go around treating girls like they're prizes, I could walk around with a girl on each arm and one on the floor to wipe my feet on and everybody would know that I'm not gay, but then who would I be?"
"I don't know."
"I don't know either, and that's the worst thing Potter, to not know what you are."
I wish I was Seamus so bad sometimes. That would shake everyone up. The Boy Who Lived, the Quidditch hero, the champion Seeker wants to be someone else. What a revelation.
Look, I've already written more than I intended and I need to get to tea. Maybe I'll write later. Or maybe I'll throw this book in the fireplace. Here comes Hermione. Ron must have told her to go boil her head. He is so daft.
