Welcome to Gaia! :: View User's Journal | Gaia Journals

These are all past entries I created in a lowly text file on my desktop before starting my journal.


18/3/07
First Entry.
My cat's sitting across from me, lounging lazily in front of the wide-screen high-quality television my mom got for her last wedding's wedding gift. That stinkin' thing just finished drinkin' outta the effin' toilet again. Ah, but he is cute nonetheless. My mom's beside me flipping through pages of her timeless old journals. Doubt I'll ever update this one but what the heck, might as well try, right?
The other day I....oh whatever.
I'm typing on the Mac my mom gave me for Christmas - that effing angel, she spent so much on me! I was quite unsure of how to react at the time, especially because of how I had been so hoping she wouldn't at that point, due to the fact I am so weird about money. And I really am, I must say.
Although not too long ago I found a twenty - YES THAT KINDA TWENTY - in my little change-purse-turtle that I now carry everywhere with me, which also carries such things as the paper that Derek made with his mom's library card number (for the library computers), all my cash (now down to 12 bucks), and my house keys.
19/3/07
Entry.
I fought with the wires, fingers shaking. 20 seconds left. 19 seconds left. Only so much time until my whole village would be engulfed by this mighty flame. I searched frantically with the wires, searching for the blue one - the one, if cut, could save us all.
John, my eldest brother, merely snickered at me. "You have a sword there," he said.
"Aye," I replied, "But I'm a bit busy for jokes." I knew where this was going.
"And what a better...thing...to do to a sword...~" He sang.
I finally gave in, and sang back, "Then to cut~them~all~right~down~!"
"Aye indeed! So you get it!" We laughed at the song we used to sing during the beginning of the War, how silly it all seemed now; and as I thought this, I stopped the bomb once and for all.
20/3/07
Entry.
J >> John
G>>Joe
R>>Ronald
M>>Me
C>>Cannibals
N>>Native Tribe Leader for Cannibals
--
J: 'Sup, Joe Johnson?
G: Nothing much, John Joe. You?
J: Sky.
R: 'Sup, John Joe, and Joe Johnson?
G: Nothing much, Ronald Cunning. You?
J, R: Sky.
M: 'Sup, John Joe, Joe Johnson, and Ronald Cunning?
G: Nothing much, Me Cannibal. You?
J, R: Sky.
(pause)
Sky, right, Me?
(me looks up)
What's wrong?
M: I see no sky. It's a cannibal-!! (horror)
N: What you do 'pon dis land, foo'?
J, R: Sky?
N: EAT THEM!! (to rest of tribe)
C: OOLONG-!!
(eats them all)
21/3/07
Entry.
Are there words left to say? Or has it all been said
before?
Therefore, is everything merely giving a Ying and Yang effect, meaning it is all nothingness these words bring?
Why then, why on Earth, did we ever speak?
What will it do?
What will it bring?
22/3/07
Entry.
I stretched, and combed my hair, never minding the simple alarm that sang beside me. Need I care to wake? Is it all but a dream? Nay, 'tis not lest we do believe so. And doth any? Truly, as mere man we cannot be one to decide so, but simply telling ourselves it is as we see can make some a man to sanity.
23/3/07
Entry.
- Don't want to share entry -