ndslotesse's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I knew then and I know now Dear Diary, I know there has got to be something wrong with me if I'm writing in a diary again. I only write when I feel pain or some other disturbing emotion has taken up most of my subconscious. I do not want to say yet what I think it is. I know though...I do not have the strength to admit it openly yet. I am going to keep the thought restraining deep into my heart. I will let it stay there and burn holes secretly. I do not want it to show. I will not let it show. I am strong. This sophomore year in highschool has some essence of 8th grade and I am afraid. I can tell. I am not going to deny it any longer. I can feel the insecurity slowly take over many of my thoughts and consume my subconscious. I am scared, I'm not going to lie. Because it hurts. And I'm so scared that it's going to hurt as much as it did in 8th grade. Wait, maybe not. I didn't feel anything in 8th grade. I was a robot. I swear I was. And blind too. I look in the mirror and all I see is some blurred figure and I'm not even crying. But there she is in slow sad humble way she smiles back at me. Knowing she can't stay a kid forever. And that knowledge is tearing her up inside because she is fearful of the thought of growing up. All I see is a some crossroad in her eyes between some sort of time. As if she was stuck not knowing where to go. Alone and in bewilderment. Young nor old. As if time forgot to look after her. Just still. Everything seems so familiar yet so alienated. I know it but it seems so out of my reach because I don't have the capability of understanding it. As if my pain and sorrow were one emotion. The world and this human race have not come up with a word for it. It's just a feeling. I know that I can't be this way because 8th grade was hell. I know that if I want to be happy all the power resides in my own hands. Knowing this adds more burdens because I know which way to sway. I know which way to go. But I'm scared. What if I leave? At least they know me here. At least I know how to deal with this pain. At least I'm not lost. Then again, you could argue that I could learn to learn to live with happiness. I tried. I tried and I will continue but this nostalgic feeling of pain is starting to etch and eat away at my thoughts. I knew who I was then. Who am I now? I know as well. But I feel more special with pain. It makes me more unique. And not just another smile blended into conformity. This world never had a place for me and I accepted that. I accept that now and I accept that still. It didn't matter whether I was happy or not, I knew that I could never belong and that led to acceptance. I knew then...I knew then. With care, 9:14 p.m. - 2002-12-02 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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