Journal

Sweet Serenity Of Mine

• Friends, plus a little more (They know who they are)
• My books
• Writing
• Drawing
• My fluffy Jack Skellington blanket
• Music

My friends comfort me in so many ways it’s hard to say it all. They always have a warm embrace waiting for me when I need it most. They know when I am just having a not so good day and try to cheer me up with silly jokes, puns, etc… They know exactly what to say and when to say it is, it’s almost freighting.

Books, music, and writing help me escape to a place that I can call my own, away from all the chaos in this world. It is when my mind can wander freely and travel to fantasy worlds like no other. Music and sometimes books can be great inspirations for my writing, just a few sentences can get my mind racing with ideas. When I write it gives me a chance to well be me. I can say whatever I want and make whatever I want happen with just a few words written down on a page. Poems and or proses are my specialty but once in a while I write a short story. Writing is one of my favorite comforts and helps me express how I feel about anything which helps me very much get on with life.

When I put a pencil to paper there is no knowing what they will create. Lines, shapes, textures, colors, etc., just flow from me through my pencil (lead or charcoal or colored) to the paper. Sometimes I have a clear image on what I wish to create, while other times not so much, but it does not take me long to figure out what to draw next.  Drawing distracts me and clears my mind. I tend to over think a lot and drawing helps in so many ways.

Lastly, my fluffy Jack Skellington is like a warm soft hug that never fades away. Not only does the blanket have one of my all time favorite characters on it, Jack from “The Nightmare Before Christmas,” the blanket itself is extremely soft. Who doesn't love a fuzzy blanket to cuddle with? I know I do.

Journal #2 (Poem)

I Am From

Broken down houses fill the streets,

Slang and children run free,

No order in their lives

Sirens echo in the night,

I sigh and try to get on with my life.

I’m trapped in this place and there

Seems like no escape

Then I close my eyes,

My mind begins to wonder

To a place where dreams come true

And the favorite word is “Nevermore!”

In this place birds chirp sweetly,

Winds blow gently,

The flowers bloom beautifully.

Big, beautiful, beloved books of

Mine surround me in comfort

My books are my home.

Yet, only if my eyes are occupied

I can then be where I belong

I am whole

Only if my mind is free.

That’s when I can finally be free.

In this place of mine I am finally free

To be who I am,

Who I wish to be.

How I came to this place

It is hard to say.

A strange man once said

“I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity”

I have come to realize the truth in his words.

That I, too have began to question my stability.

Over time I have become aware

Of the world I built and what I shared

How it does not matter

Where I am from.

But how I made that place better

For me, for once.

I achieved that…

That place where I am proud to be from.

A place that I can call my own

A place that I love

A place I can dream all I want.

No more sirens

No more children running free

Myself

My mind

Is where I am from

Where I must be…

• Imagery
• Alliteration
• Metaphor
• Repetition

(Quotes from Edgar Allan Poe, “The Raven”, and  a letter for a fan, www.brainyquote.com)

Journal #2

Dear World,

Hello. I would like to start off saying that I am no brilliant philosopher who speaks powerful and meaningful words nor a writer who could write a little and make those few words count. I am but a person with a thought and I just so happen to share it with you. All I ask is just to take a few minutes and read what I have to say. I would greatly appreciate it. Yet, if you do not want to read this then forget about this whole thing, delete it and I’m sorry for wasting your time.

As for the ones who stay continue on…

Many would probably write about life and morals everyone should follow or happiness and what it means, just opinions after opinions being shoved down your throat, but I do not what to do that. That is just rude I say. Yes, we are all entitled to our own opinions but that does not mean you have the right to force it on others. I do not want to push my opinions or views on you. I would rather have you develop your own morals, opinions, etc… instead. I am going to write a short story or poem (I have not decided yet but I will soon, promise).Take this mmm…. poem. Yes, a poem. Take this poem just as that a poem. I am not going to tell you what it means or how to interpret it or to even interpret it at all. That is up to you. All I ask of the brave reader reading this is to take a moment and separate yourself from the chaos of this strange world and read. Read for a purpose or for fun or if you have absolutely nothing better to do. Just stop, read, and think a little, maybe...

Why is a raven like a writing desk?

Is it because they’re both not made of cheese?

Or feathers could be apart or use on them?

What makes this two similar?

There are infinite answers.

With these infinite answers come infinite questions.

Who knew one simple riddle could turn into so much more?

Without even realizing it.

Yet, every answer and question to come up

Is but one’s own.

One will hear others answers and questions and

then would take it all in.

The answers begin to change and

Maybe the questions, too.

All that matters is what one thinks  

And that is certainly true.

Now once more.

Why is a raven like a writing desk?

Journal # 20

Or Am I The Alien?

I have just discovered that the entire human race is a species different from me, human. When I first found evidence on this manner I paniced and nearly went in my pants. Somehow deep down I knew there was something that separated me and them. I had a good nights rest, well I tried to but so many questions were running through my head, before I take on tomorrow. I plan to go about my usual ways tomorrow so I do not draw attention that I know of them, in fear that they would do something to me if I knew the truth. Finding the truth is my main priority. I wish to know why they are here? Why am I the only human left? Am I going to turn into one of them? What if I am the alien since they are all the same and I am different? I said “Hello” to my neighbors and friends like nothing changed. Yet, when I found time alone with one of my friends I questioned and induced answers from them. I did it in a way they just seemed like random questions without a purpose but in truth they do.The more I discovered the more answers I had and new questions sprung up in my mind. I am not sure what my next step should be but, I do know that I plan to make sure I know all the facts first. For right now I can only come up with one reasonable conclusion. I am the alien...

Journal #17

Pinata

I awake from my sweet dreams, in a box, to find myself dangling from a tree on a windy day. The birds were chirping and the sun was shining and I knew today was going to be a good day. My stomach seems fuller than it was when I was in the box. I wonder, what is inside me? Before I realized anything else, screaming children run towards me. Their eyes are full of hunger and their bodies have so much energy. They focus on me as they lick their lips and mouths begin to water. A what seems to be a harmless little girl is holding a baseball bat and swings it menacingly. Panic and fear consumes me as I hear her sweet giggle turn into a sinister laugh. If I could sweat, my paper skin would be pretty soggy right now. My mind begins to race with so many questions. What are they going to do with that baseball bat? What do they want from me? Then it dawns on me, my stomach! It must be filled with something they want. Candy maybe? I realized I don’t really have a way to give them the candy but they have a way to get it out and I do not agree with that method . I try to break free from the rope that connects me to the tree, but it is of no use. The little girl inches closer and closer towards me. I begin to freak out in the wind, hoping it will set me free. There is no point in trying to escape now. This is so sweet dream but a terrible nightmare. I now feel like I have an obligation to full fill their happiness. I see her raise the bat and aiming at me. I close my eyes, ready to endure pain so they can have their happiness. The last thing I remember is the sound of the bat opening my insides and little treats floating to the ground.

Journal #14

        

Real Friends:

 Real friends should take care of each other by taking action first then ask questions, why, later. Despite what the situation, the friend tries to help out, comfort, etc., before they know all the details. They would do whatever was needed for that friend no matter what the cost. Real friends share a bond deeper than blood. They look out for one another like a sibling would. Chide worse than a parent would. Love more than a lover would. They are not afraid to stand up for one another or join each other in a crazy adventure just to cheer each other up.  Real friends would do whatever in the heat of the moment for a true friend. Yet, after it all they would still like to know the reason why their friend is upset after they cheer them up. True friends are becoming harder and harder to find in this world but, there are some still out there and worth the heartache. Overall, no one knows who there true friends are until a situation puts their friendship to the test and they make it to the very end.

Journal #11

Where She left Him...

One cold, windy day a girl, no older than 13, was taking a walk through the woods at a time many would not dare to. The moon was full and bright but there wasn't a single star in sight. The creek ran peacefully in the still of the night. She did this quite often, daring to do things not many would because of a tale people would say to scare the young but she never believed it. She just laughed at them and began to walk in the middle of the night by the pale moon glow following the same old path she always took. The tale told of a vile, sickening creature lurking and waiting deep in woods for its next victim, but only came out when the moon was full and not a single star shone bright. She grew tired of the old path she took and decided to try a different one and see if she could find this so called creature that lurks in the woods.

A sudden cry for help came from what seemed from the ground. She was so startled from it that she lost her balance and twisted her ankle on a root from a large oak tree. In one fluid motion she got back off, intrigued by the mysterious voice, and staggered toward it. “Hello? Is someone here in the woods? Do thee need any help?” she shakily spoke aloud. “Over here! I am trapped and have a great thirst!” a deep, sweet voice answered back. She had found the body for that mysterious voice. A boy about 15 with beautiful, blue eye stared up at her. “Could you please fetch me a drink from the stream. I am in dire need of it. I have been stuck in this well for a day but by my surprise there is no water in this well only mud!” the boy said sweetly yet horsed.

She did what the boy wished and went to the creek to find a plastic bottle conveniently by it. Once the bottle was full with cool water, she turned about and headed back to the well. The vile creature was far from her mind as she wondered how a boy got stuck in a well. To her surprise the boy was gone. She was sure this is where she left him. Within that moment a dark laugh turned into a gruesome roar from all around. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up, a pit in her stomach began to grow, and her breathing quickened. Leaves and sticks snapped with every step it took, getting closer and closer. Fear consumed her and her ankle throbbed. She knew there was no reason to run for it was too late. Long, dry fingers with sharp nails firmly grasp her neck. At that moment she knew the creature was real and she was it’s next victim...