Hey! I'm planning on joining the Creative Writing Club at my high school soon. And in order to join, you must pass in a random journal entry. If it's well written, they'll accept you. I need to know if anyone notices any obvious grammatical errors or spelling errors. What do you think of it? Thanks!
Well... Here it is...
________________________________________________________________
This happens to be my first journal entry. Life is growing quite monotonous. I crave a place to pour my thoughts and feelings out.
Anyway... Lately, I've been feeling profoundly lazy. This complete disregard for the universe and all it contains frightens me; I am scared of myself because I am no longer able to fully recognize myself as an individual. There is no drama in my life since high school has begun. I realize that an unquenchable thirst for drama may seem overly corrupt. But lately, I am unemotional and apathetic. I care for nothing. I guess sometimes when I grow bored with life, I turn to drama in order to occupy me. I know, its wrong that I feed off of it occasionally. Im ashamed. While in elementary school, I cared about my image. I was constantly and overly distraught about my clothes, my grades, my looks, the way I talked, who I associated with et cetera. And don't get me wrong, I still, and uncontrollably always will, care about my grades and the way I look. But you must understand, these aspects are no longer priorities in my mind. My views on everything (literally everything) have changed since my elementary days. These calculating facts are beginning to create my own personal reality.
I hate feeling careless...
I think I'd rather be forever hidden and out of sight from humanity. Then at least I'd feel loneliness.
But, like everything in this life, these feelings of carelessness are just a period, a condition, a stage in life, of which I will eventually conquer over and move on.
I am in no way apprehensive about these feelings... Not apprehensive in the least.
So moving on...
Today, classes were cancelled.
Needless to say, I spent the day writing, drawing, editing photos, and catching up with friends via instant messenger.
I've been thinking lately... I need to visit my family, or at least what remains of my family, in Maine sometime soon. When I recap the facts that I haven't made a single phone call, or sent a single holiday card, I cannot help but feel somewhat guilty. This feeling of guiltiness is due to the idea that I have in a sense, abandoned what family I have remaining.
Then I think, "In what way have they been a family to me?" The answer is quite simple... They have not been a family to me in the least. Frankly, I don't believe that they give a damn about me or my well being.
These two contrasting thoughts of whether or not I am wrong for not acknowledging my Maine-familys presence have been bouncing on and off the rebound board in my mind. It's hard to tell if someone you know cares about you. Have I given them care? But ultimately, the question is... Who began this endless cycle of "not-caring for your family? The world may never know.
So, when questions as immature and pointless as this come up in my life, I just have to be the bigger man, swallow my pride, and admit that I could quite possibly be equally guilty of "not-caring for my family."
Although I've given you, the reader of this journal, my whole life story in the above paragraphs... I have more. Please accept my most sincere apologies.
For the past couple of hours, I have been in a kind of ecstasy. The kind of ecstasy, almost a religious sort, that transcends mundanity. These feelings of ecstasy are due to the Christmas season. The season itself makes life worth living.
Please Christmas, never end... You're too perfect.
Well, that about wraps it up. I'm heading off to my bed at the wee hour of 1 a.m.
And I leave you, the reader, with nothing but a small quote...
"Quotes are nothing but inspiration for the uninspired" Anonymous
Well... Here it is...
________________________________________________________________
This happens to be my first journal entry. Life is growing quite monotonous. I crave a place to pour my thoughts and feelings out.
Anyway... Lately, I've been feeling profoundly lazy. This complete disregard for the universe and all it contains frightens me; I am scared of myself because I am no longer able to fully recognize myself as an individual. There is no drama in my life since high school has begun. I realize that an unquenchable thirst for drama may seem overly corrupt. But lately, I am unemotional and apathetic. I care for nothing. I guess sometimes when I grow bored with life, I turn to drama in order to occupy me. I know, its wrong that I feed off of it occasionally. Im ashamed. While in elementary school, I cared about my image. I was constantly and overly distraught about my clothes, my grades, my looks, the way I talked, who I associated with et cetera. And don't get me wrong, I still, and uncontrollably always will, care about my grades and the way I look. But you must understand, these aspects are no longer priorities in my mind. My views on everything (literally everything) have changed since my elementary days. These calculating facts are beginning to create my own personal reality.
I hate feeling careless...
I think I'd rather be forever hidden and out of sight from humanity. Then at least I'd feel loneliness.
But, like everything in this life, these feelings of carelessness are just a period, a condition, a stage in life, of which I will eventually conquer over and move on.
I am in no way apprehensive about these feelings... Not apprehensive in the least.
So moving on...
Today, classes were cancelled.
Needless to say, I spent the day writing, drawing, editing photos, and catching up with friends via instant messenger.
I've been thinking lately... I need to visit my family, or at least what remains of my family, in Maine sometime soon. When I recap the facts that I haven't made a single phone call, or sent a single holiday card, I cannot help but feel somewhat guilty. This feeling of guiltiness is due to the idea that I have in a sense, abandoned what family I have remaining.
Then I think, "In what way have they been a family to me?" The answer is quite simple... They have not been a family to me in the least. Frankly, I don't believe that they give a damn about me or my well being.
These two contrasting thoughts of whether or not I am wrong for not acknowledging my Maine-familys presence have been bouncing on and off the rebound board in my mind. It's hard to tell if someone you know cares about you. Have I given them care? But ultimately, the question is... Who began this endless cycle of "not-caring for your family? The world may never know.
So, when questions as immature and pointless as this come up in my life, I just have to be the bigger man, swallow my pride, and admit that I could quite possibly be equally guilty of "not-caring for my family."
Although I've given you, the reader of this journal, my whole life story in the above paragraphs... I have more. Please accept my most sincere apologies.
For the past couple of hours, I have been in a kind of ecstasy. The kind of ecstasy, almost a religious sort, that transcends mundanity. These feelings of ecstasy are due to the Christmas season. The season itself makes life worth living.
Please Christmas, never end... You're too perfect.
Well, that about wraps it up. I'm heading off to my bed at the wee hour of 1 a.m.
And I leave you, the reader, with nothing but a small quote...
"Quotes are nothing but inspiration for the uninspired" Anonymous