ndslotesse's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ...I'll think of something good to put here Dear Diary, I am sitting here at school still and I get this light nostalgic feeling take possession of the majority of my thoughts. Today was my last StuCo meeting and after the meeting we were notified that this was the last day to wear uniforms. Even though I am a sophomore, and it would seem I have many more days to sweat into my faded skirt and shirt, I don't, I'm leaving and this is my last day. I am unsure exactly how I feel about it. Sorta sad but glad that the year is almost over. I don't think I've ever wanted the summer so badly but dreaded it more than ever at the same time. I have so many reasons for wanting the school year to end but then knowing that my days are numbered makes me realize that I grow closer and close to my moving day and then I grow sad once more. I do not know what to do or how to feel. I wish I had better words to convey how I feel, what's running through my mind, and all the emptiness that's filling up my heart, but I don't. I've lost my talent. "I've forgotten how to write, the only thing about me that ever m ade me feel special. I've lost it in the lonely path that led me to where I am today. Somewehere along the way, I must have dropped a glass marble hodling my talent, my obsession, my passion, and it rolled along screaming my name and trying to catch my attention with teh sun light reflected from it's gleam, showing in the veins of the tree-leaves. After the sun had fallen asleep and yawned with a red-oranged breath upon the tops of the trees and slowly fading into the stars, my talent saw me rest my tired back against a comforting brown b ark-peeled trunk, and thinking that it would be able to catch my attention of it's loss tomorrow; it went to sleep. What my talent did not know was that I was uncomfortable with insomnia; I couldn't fall asleep because I felt empty and taht something was missing. After I felt a prick from the brown bark-peeled trunk I weas hurt, and so leaving to find a place where I could rest, a place that would conceal the irritating emptiness, I left mly talent alone in the darkness of the rubble of the path." I wrote that sometime during 2-3 hour sometime this past month. Sometimes when I think I have my talent back I realize in a hurry that it's gone and that I was losing my mind, breathing in dissapointment, as I looked on knowing that I didn't have that 'way with words' that I once had. And I am jealous. Jealous of all those who do have the talent still lingering in their fingertips. With care, 3:39 p.m. - 2003-04-30 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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