In every age of the world, there has been a leading nation, one of a more generous sentiment, whose eminent citizens were willing to stand for the interests of general justice and humanity, at the risk of being called, by the men of the moment, chimerical and fantastic. Which should be that nation but these States? Which should lead that movement, if not New England? Who should lead the leaders, but the Young American? - Ralph Waldo Emerson

funny, you never thought he would ever keep a journal. it was a small leather book, bounded closed with a small string. let's see what secrets he hides, shall we?

W͙A͙R͙N͙I͙N͙G͙. P͙l͙e͙a͙s͙e͙ t͙o͙l͙e͙r͙a͙t͙e͙ t͙h͙e͙ f͙a͙c͙t͙ t͙h͙a͙t͙ I͙'v͙e͙ s͙t͙a͙r͙t͙e͙d͙ t͙o͙ w͙r͙i͙t͙e͙ t͙h͙i͙s͙ t͙h͙i͙n͙g͙ w͙h͙e͙n͙ I͙ k͙n͙e͙w͙ a͙ l͙i͙t͙t͙l͙e͙ t͙o͙ n͙o͙t͙h͙i͙n͙g͙ a͙b͙o͙u͙t͙ I͙c͙e͙l͙a͙n͙d͙. I͙t͙'s͙ c͙r͙i͙n͙g͙y͙ a͙s͙ h͙e͙c͙k͙ i͙n͙ t͙h͙e͙ f͙i͙r͙s͙t͙ h͙a͙l͙f͙ o͙f͙ t͙h͙e͙ b͙o͙o͙k͙. I͙t͙'s͙ b͙e͙t͙t͙e͙r͙ o͙n͙ t͙h͙e͙ o͙t͙h͙e͙r͙ h͙a͙l͙f͙ t͙h͙o͙u͙g͙h͙. T͙h͙a͙n͙k͙ y͙o͙u͙ f͙o͙r͙ r͙e͙a͙d͙i͙n͙g͙ t͙h͙i͙s͙. Emil was looking at the journal in his hands. 'I'll regret doing this...' He thought as he placed it on the desk. He sat down on his chair and took a pen into his left hand. He started writing two simple words on the first page. "Hello Journal"

tɦɛ ʍaʟɛ աas ɨռ ɦɨs ʀօօʍ, a քɛռċɨʟ ɨռ ɦaռɖ, as ɦɛ tɦօʊɢɦt aռɖ tɦօʊɢɦt, ʊռtɨʟ ɦɛ քɛʀҡɛɖ ʊք, aռɖ ɦɨs ɦaռɖ staʀtɛɖ tօ ʍօʋɛ aɢaɨռst tɦɛ քaքɛʀ.

"If you don't want me to talk your ear off- which I know you do -I'd suggest not reading this. Also, smol beans shouldn't read this because I cuss... And some chapters might have smut because my admin is a pervert and wants me to give my opinion." "In other words, this is my book of random shit. Prepare yourself." ((Basically just some headcanons I made up because I was bored))