February 2012
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Love - Daughter
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Every moment seems like a strange time in my life. I think everything is perfect though, I can’t imagine things being any different. I am so tremendously happy and sad. I’m going for a walk to go get rainbow ice cream now. Even though sometimes bad things happen, I can tell things are going to be just fine.
I just got home and only now do I realise I burnt my tongue on the pizza. Also tonight I learnt everything I thought I knew was a lie… I don’t think I’ve ever felt like this.
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The beauty in a memory is based on environmental and emotional factors. The job of the writer is to articulate these figurative concepts. The reader then takes the words and turns it into an emotional experience. The human mind is a constant converter of the literal and figurative.
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I really only do write about [you] don’t I? That is sad and pathetic. I suppose I can’t really think about much else, or maybe I choose not to. There’s no point doing emotions in halves - nothing good ever comes of that. Be in absolute infatuation or try to kill yourself, they kind of seem like my only options sometimes. I actually get satisfaction from being deeply upset, I feel...
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