A Very Personal Entry From My Diary.

Saturday, October 1st, 2011

Saturday, October 1st, 2011

8:49 pm

Dear Diary,

I was just reading some of my more recent entries. What really got to me were the ones about having having a diary.

Do you know that I have had a diary since I was five years old? That was almost ten years ago! Of course, if I looked at those entries, I’d never be able to read them. My handwriting was awful. I didn’t really start writing until I was eight. Then, all I wrote about was J.D. and my friends at Middletown. But in the past year or so I’ve been semi-regular entries. Isn’t that just hilarious how someone just suddenly starts writing like I have? And it’s not like I’m writing out important dates in time. (I won’t say that I’m not writing about important people, because what if I am?)

Sometimes I’ve wondered about my motive for having a diary. I’ve always thought I kept it for the future—when my existence would basically hold no interest. I’ve also considered it for kids and grandkids and great-grandkids. But what if it’s not for anyone but myself? What if the reason for having a diary isn’t just for important moments in history?

I guess in the future people will look at my diary to figure out how life was for the average, everyday person of my time. It probably won’t be near as great as Anne Frank’s diary, but hopefully mine won’t be lost. I’d really feel better knowing that I’ve contributed my part in this time—that I would have made it easier to see, touch, taste, smell, and feel.

To know that I won’t be forgotten.

Have you ever considered existance? I’ve always been wondering whether what I’ve been taught to know as real is reality. Sometimes I can believe it. Most of the time I don’t. I feel like I’m not apart of my own body—that I’m not really here. I’ll wonder if I’m someone’s toy or imaginary friend—soon to be forgotten and seize to exist.

Sometimes I wonder about the afterlife. I wonder if when I die, I die. Like my soul will vanish. Sometimes I’ll worry that I’ll be sentenced to Hell—but in my belief system, God doesn’t send you to Hell unless you want to go. Sometimes I’ll wonder if I could stay here, on Earth, as a ghost. Just for a little while. I’d be really grateful for that. I’d just…feel a bit more comfortable. Besides that, I’d want to finish my story not with a The End before the credits, but a To Be Continued.

It’s really cold here in Louisville, Kentucky.

Love,

Alison

9:17 pm