The Comfort of a Notebook

This week has been full of not-so-happy days. I can't explain the exact reasons as to why that is, but I feel like retyping a journal entry I made today in my simple green notebook. It's meant to be my tenth grade journal. I'll refer you back to Catching Up and High School, where my first Journal entries were introduced on the blog. My plan for this Journal is just to contain my contemplative thoughts and problems that I might not be able to bring up with other people. If they turn out good enough, I might just post them up blog-style, like today.

The problem with these entries is that I only write them when I have something genuine to say. It's my way of thinking deeply. Sometimes it may not make sense because it's only for me to understand. Sometimes it may not seem accurate about me because I'm just discovering it about me or unearthing it from long ago.

Sometimes my thoughts trouble me. I'm afraid to say this, but sometimes my thinking leads me down a path I can't stop myself from following. I almost always think about the future when I try not to. The past and its mistakes haunt my every waking hour. There's always that moment when I realize how scary my thinking is, and how I wish to stop it even though it's too late.

When I think it up, it stays with me forever.



November  8th, 2011

I knew that sooner or later I would be back to this journal. Happiness never lasts forever. I knew I wouldn't be obliviously happy like I was a few weeks ago.

Who am I?

Do I disagree on things without a reasoning behind it? Religion is hard to prove or back up, but I'd rather not think about religion or God or reincarnation right now.

Who am I?

Am I just like everyone else? I try to set myself apart from other teenagers. I don't want to be another doll on the conveyor belt. Sometimes I try so hard, but sometimes it just blows up in my face.

I want school work to drown me. I don't want time to think, because if I let that free time consume me, I'll finally discover that my thoughts are jumbled and that it's the only thing blocking me from realizing what my true fear is.

What if I can't live up to what I want to be? What if I give up trying to be unique? I'm afraid I'll lose my hold on what I want and become lost in the masses that pull me down. I'm paranoid that this ocean of doubt will cloud my judgment and that I'll give in to peer pressure without a second chance. Sometimes it seems that being a child is the only real happiness in this world, because obliviousness and ignorance was the only thing that I knew.

I know that the people I hang out with don't appeal to most. I know that I don't have any standards or morals, but I'm sure that I'm still strong enough to accept the criticism I get for it.

It's just so hard when I can't please people. I can't please my cousin all the time or Pepe or Almond or Mom or Dad or my superiors or my brothers... Would it be easier to wear a mask and agree with everybody on everything? Should I stop trying to please everyone? Should I stop forming opinions that piss people off?

Or should I be myself and get even further into this whole ordeal?

Or maybe I could incorporate a little bit of both and draw my line. I am not going to die if I take some time alone and find myself before I try to find the people inside my friends.