Teen Ink

Anansesem replied...

Journal:
Lucy doesn't feel good. I feel for her, but babies are great at suffering silently. She's stopped crying now.
I feel better now that it's after lunch. For a while I was worried that this day was going to be a waste. and then I was able to snap out of my Milo-isms. That ought to make sense to anyone who's ever read The Phantom Tollbooth.
On that note, I've been thinking of the Demons of the Mountains of Ignorance. The worst part is they--or at least what they represent--are very real. My life is ruled by the Gelatinous Giant, but lucky for me my fear of the Terrible Trivium should help me break free.
Honestly, I think everyone should read that book.
~A. Jacobsen

Anansesem replied...

I wish there was a way to edit posts. The last thing that babies can do well is suffer silently.

JRaye replied...

Dear Journal,
It's been a terribly long weekend, and I'm not sure if it will get better on Monday. I've been trying to distract myself through baking and writting, and it's worked pretty good so far, but my mind always goes back to him. Good news: I'm working on a few short stories, and a song called "Fly For Me". I might change the title later, it's all good. Hope everyone has a good day :)

ClaireM. replied...

Dear Journal,
 
Life won’t be quite like this ever again.  Somehow the year has swallowed itself and I’m reeling in the silence left behind.  Everywhere I turn people are parting ways and no one is safe from it.  It comes for us all.  I'm going kicking and screaming, because I love this.  I love this precious time between child and grownup, these wild years of being young, passionate and free, the liberation from adult responsibilities with the satisfaction of great independence.  I love all of it.  And what's truly terrible is the fact that I didn't realize how much I loved it until now, the end, when there’s little time left for sentimentality and even less for heartache.  There will come a time when this won’t hurt so sharply, but right now it is a throbbing in the gut, an all-encompassing, overwhelming, quivering emptiness.  I miss everything and it just happened and it’s not even far enough in the past to be missed properly so why how can I be grieving so soon? 
This has been a pleasure.   The whole thing.  You realize how stupidly impetuous all the fights and arguments were, how fleeting your time together is.  I have a shocking yearning to go back and do it all again, now that I know how much it stings to say Goodbye.
Yrs,
Claire