Letters to a New Generation
Temporary Diary
11/09/11
Today I was smiling about something someone had said at lunch (I can't even remember the comment now) when I looked away from the table and to the left. Walking past us were two guys. Only one of them I noticed. He looked strikingly similar to Z. For a while I even let myself believe it really was him. Everything seemed to freeze, and it was all I could think about for the rest of the day. Maybe I just imagined the whole thing, or took someone else's similar features and made them him. I don't even know who "he" is anymore. What is it that I really want? Who is it that I'm really missing, and who is it that I'm unconsciously looking for?
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11/10/11
I had another dream about Z. I don't get them very much anymore, but when I do, they're drawn-out and full of nostalgia. I wake up wishing that I could return to nothing but a dream; a fantasy. Some part of me knows it's real, though. At least somewhere in my mind it is, even though I really don't think about it much. But when I do, all these dreams seem to surge out of hiding. Why is it that I miss him so much, and no one else? I might not ever figure it out. I'm okay with that though. Eventually this "missing" and "wishing" will be a past thing.
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11/11/11
At 11:11 in English class, Mrs. G. allowed us to stop everything we were doing and have a moment of silence to make a wish. Afterwords the class gradually began clapping -- the feeling was similar to a slow but mutual smile. I wished for peace. Not world peace, or personal peace, but just peace. It's funny because I'm not sure I even know what that is. Peace? Something tells me that it's similar to this quote: "Serenity is not freedom from the storm, but peace with the storm."
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11/12/11
I've been experiencing a strange inward longing today. I don't think it's wanderlust. Maybe it's been the passing of the full moon or something equally odd and outlandish, but I feel this intense urge to shed everything and lose all sense of self. Could I actually do it, though? Probably not. I think that's where the wanderlust comes in. In a new place, a foreign world, it's easier to let go of everything you have because it doesn't seem so close anymore. No one knows who you are. So you don't have to be "who you are" anymore.
Today I was smiling about something someone had said at lunch (I can't even remember the comment now) when I looked away from the table and to the left. Walking past us were two guys. Only one of them I noticed. He looked strikingly similar to Z. For a while I even let myself believe it really was him. Everything seemed to freeze, and it was all I could think about for the rest of the day. Maybe I just imagined the whole thing, or took someone else's similar features and made them him. I don't even know who "he" is anymore. What is it that I really want? Who is it that I'm really missing, and who is it that I'm unconsciously looking for?
---
11/10/11
I had another dream about Z. I don't get them very much anymore, but when I do, they're drawn-out and full of nostalgia. I wake up wishing that I could return to nothing but a dream; a fantasy. Some part of me knows it's real, though. At least somewhere in my mind it is, even though I really don't think about it much. But when I do, all these dreams seem to surge out of hiding. Why is it that I miss him so much, and no one else? I might not ever figure it out. I'm okay with that though. Eventually this "missing" and "wishing" will be a past thing.
---
11/11/11
At 11:11 in English class, Mrs. G. allowed us to stop everything we were doing and have a moment of silence to make a wish. Afterwords the class gradually began clapping -- the feeling was similar to a slow but mutual smile. I wished for peace. Not world peace, or personal peace, but just peace. It's funny because I'm not sure I even know what that is. Peace? Something tells me that it's similar to this quote: "Serenity is not freedom from the storm, but peace with the storm."
---
11/12/11
I've been experiencing a strange inward longing today. I don't think it's wanderlust. Maybe it's been the passing of the full moon or something equally odd and outlandish, but I feel this intense urge to shed everything and lose all sense of self. Could I actually do it, though? Probably not. I think that's where the wanderlust comes in. In a new place, a foreign world, it's easier to let go of everything you have because it doesn't seem so close anymore. No one knows who you are. So you don't have to be "who you are" anymore.