AN: Today I also bear you guys a gift: Instead of the one or two journal entries that usually get put into a chapter, today I bring you three! Kind of like triplets! Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy and happy Valentine's Day (AKA Happy Anniversary-of-a-Roman-Priest's-Execution-Date Day)! And remember to leave a review
Tuesday, November 13th
Hello Journal. So I know I'm only writing in you about once a month. Sorry, but I've been busy. I'll try to write more often, but I can't promise anything.
So lately I've been reading a book about a person who is forced by an insane person to live through his worst nightmares. Eventually he lives through all of them, and gets out of the fear world and goes after and kills the maniac. But I've been thinking, if I had to live through my worst fears, what would I have to live through?
Let's see. My fears from least to greatest….
5) I'm afraid of being helpless. I'm afraid of someone needing help and not being able to help. Worse yet- being the 'damsel in distress.' Why can't there be a 'dude in distress'? If I were in the fear world, that fear would probably be manifested in me having to watch someone get hurt.
4) Pain. I'm not afraid of death. I'm afraid of being in excruciating pain and having to survive through it. I don't even want to know what that fear would look like in the fear world.
3) Maturing. Yes, I'm afraid of maturing. I don't want to have to grow up and be responsible. I don't want to have no time for doing the things I love. In the fear world, I'd probably have to be a mature, busy adult going through her midlife crisis.
2) Solitude. While being by myself is relaxing and happy sometimes, if I'm by myself for too long, I go slightly insane. I'd probably be stuck in an all-white room with nothing to do.
1) Change. I'd probably have to go through a world where everything I loved was either gone or distorted.
But that's depressing, and today was a pretty good day. It was a Tuesday, after all.
Fears
I'm afraid of being helpless
I'm scared of pain and of maturity
I wish not to be in solitude
And I wish not for things to change
I don't want to face my fears
But I know someday I will
And when that day comes
I will face them head on.
Because everyone is afraid,
But not everyone can conquer their fears.
Signing off,
SAMMMMMMMM
oOoOoOo
Friday, November 16th
Hey, Journal, I'm writing in you twice in one week. Aren't you proud of me? And what, you wonder, is the cause for such a rare occurrence? It's because today I witnessed a national phenomenon!
Okay, so there's this really loud kid in my class named Cade. He is always talking, making jokes, or just being loud. While I do admit that a lot of times he is funny, and he does break up the monotony of school, sometimes it can get a bit too much. And he never stops!
So today my parents forced me to go a fifth grade girls basketball game so that I could "socialize with the other spectators my age." They didn't even go with me! Anyways, I was sitting by myself as far away from everyone else as possible, and I looked around at the crowd. There was Cade, sitting silently- not even cheering when the team scored a point- by himself- no parents or friends- watching the game.
My theory? He has a façade. He is not always loud and over the top; sometimes he is quiet, and he has to be loud when he is because he feels the need to compensate for the times he has to be quiet and or has no one to talk to.
Absurd theory? Definitely. Possible? Definitely.
Masks.
Who are you,
Underneath your exterior?
Are you really who I think you are,
Are you really as you appear?
Is your mask a subconscious one,
That even you don't know is there
Or did you make it yourself,
So that others don't know you care?
Are you hiding what's inside,
Or are you hiding your situation?
Do you want others to find the real you,
Or is there no way one earth you'll let them in?
I get why you would and I get why you wouldn't
But I can't help but doubt that I'll ever get you.
And that was that.
Signing off for now,
The one and only Sam
(P.S. Actually there are millions of Sams, but pretend that there aren't, ok?)
oOoOoOo
Wednesday, December 12th
My mother called me a demented psychopath today.
She asked me to smile for her, and I did, a big smile, and she called me psycho!
I'm fine with being called introverted, strange, unusual, and even crazy, but not demented, and definitely not psycho. If you're introverted, strange, unusual, or even crazy, that means you have at least some control over your actions. A demented psychopath doesn't.
And I have perfect mental health. Just because I'm a girl who doesn't like girly things, a fifth grader who's a pessimist, and a child who has reconciled herself with death, that doesn't mean I'm psycho. That doesn't mean I'm demented. I'm not a demented psychopath right?
I don't wanna be a demented psychopath…
Call me crazy
Call me insane
I don't care,
I don't feel a thing
I have perfect mentality
Maybe even better than perfect
Just cuz I'm not normal
Doesn't mean I'm not right in my head.
I can be different
And still be perfectly sane,
Just you watch me!
Signing off,
Sane Sam.
AN: And that was that. I will admit that those poems aren't my best, but I still think they are okay… right? Anyways, leave a favorite, follow or review. They are greatly appreciated!
See you next time!
Signing off,
Sane InsanityIsClarity