Auna

in the process.

Tue, 19 Feb 2008 03:32:21 GMT

I am finally touching my room. I haven't cleaned it since the summer. My walls were completely bare, but I'm finally making them beautiful.

My Keira board as I call it. I basically adore her.

I love my map. I got that dresser for Christmas. It's perfect.

My picture board. So far it's only pictures of me when I was little, a photobooth picture, and a Buddy Holly postcard. I'm adding more soon.

And there's that whole wall all together.

I will have a full post of my whole room once I get it cleaned. Believe me when I say that you do not want to see my floors.

journal 01.

Wed, 24 Oct 2007 03:51:36 GMT

That is my handwriting. .10 points to those of you who can read it.

Obviously I couldn't sleep one night.

I'm starting to record certain restaurants that I've enjoyed.

My favorite song of Buddy Holly's

The song was stuck in my head [Good-bye Cruel World- James Darren].

When boredom ensues, doodle.

A list of more CDs of certain artists I want to buy.

A list of my favorite books, The Chosen obviously being my very favorite.

A fortune that I recieved from Buffet City once

Welcoming my favorite season, autumn

This is what happens when I become bored in my math class.

Questioning a lyric of Buddy Holly's

My favorite Regina Spektor lyrics

My page of trying to start my Psychology report

I get extremely bored at work

Oktoberfest! I wish I had worked more on this page.
P.S. An Oktoberfest entry should be up within days. :)

One of my favorite pages

Last but not least, one of my weekly To-do Lists.

Hope you enjoyed my journal thus far. ♥

xx

Composition 1.

Fri, 14 Sep 2007 00:54:41 GMT

This is my first compostion for Freshman Composition 1. The assignment was to write about a place important to you as a child and to write from the perspective of you, the adult, and you, the child.

The imagination of one’s childhood holds dear in the hearts of many as a consolation through life’s hardships. Reminiscing over old, fond memories can bring comfort to oneself. Children effortlessly bring themselves into imaginary worlds by occasionally turning real life events into a fantasy. By doing so, the balance between real life and fantasy keeps a sense of tranquility in a child’s life. Nowadays, I find myself wishing I had the creativity that once thrived in my young mind. The capability of detouring life into a completely different mind set is greatly missed. The innocence from which childhood stands dwells in the fortresses that we create.

As a child my grandparents’ house was my fortress. In a desolate area of my grandparents’ yard resides an area where my childlike imagination once flourished. Cornered by a fence except for one side, an area of leaves, twigs, grass and a dirt ground was home to my siblings and me. Tar-like tiles secretly retrieved from the musky cellar were piled in a rectangular form as beds. Sleeping never actually happened on our crude bedding. Cement blocks resembling a stove sat against a fence that ran parallel to the road. A log which was used as a couch set adjacent to our make-shift stove. Occasionally, a pretend fire made up twigs and dry leaves was built upon the stove. Berries that we found in a nearby bush were mashed on the cement blocks. Never were the berries consumed, but the excitement that we were “living in the wild” never ceased. The one side without a bordering fence was our entrance into our humble abode and our exit out toward the unknown world.

The time machines of our mind turned us back hundreds of years. I, the authority figure, would lead my siblings in an innocent scandal that my young mind created. As a child the mind is an amazing thing. Creativity prospers upon the realm of our imagination. An isolated area such as the one we deeply favored could easily be transformed from a fort in the Civil War to a cabin on a pirate ship. Some days I led an expedition across vast prairie lands. Our secretive corner became a covered wagon on the Oregon Trail. We made went along our rough journey, hoarding stones, sticks and other random things found in nature. Our playset which still lies directly behind our log couch housed many journeys to outer space. The rickety slide became a chute which we used to land on the moon. My brother as commander swung so our rocket would blast off. My sister and I kept our eye out to ward off evil aliens. We were oblivious to the world around us. We were young, careless and happy.

Today when my eyes rest upon our immature habitat, a ghost town is brought before me. Twigs, leaves and various debris cover our secret retreat. Barely visible, the cement block stove is still against the fence and the log couch and tar tile beds still remain. Occasionally when I revisit, I shuffle the fragments of nature to show the once gleaming dirt floor. I believe my childhood innocence is swept away each time this maneuver is performed. I hope fragments of my imagination remain with me as I grow wiser in my years. As I survey the area nostalgia clouds over as memories rain down in my mind.

a reason.

Mon, 25 Jun 2007 11:40:43 GMT

I believe in reasons
A map created specifically for me
As a guidance in life's brutal ways
Who knew your heart could ever ache
before ever being broken
But loneliness fills a glass-half full to empty
Change is inevitable & I'm hopeful
Nonexistent thoughts of you
echo silence through my mind
A secret's kept from me by time

One day
I hope, I am loved
Patiently, waiting, I have accepted
Fate will come surely
I hope you're wonderful

xx