|
sublingua | |||||
| The heart with a mind of its own.(Be present.) | The mind with a heart of its own.(It's past.) | The dream that is your waking life.(Go there now.) | |||
|
First entry
This is my first entry (duh) into this crazy diary, so I wonder how many more there will be. When I was younger, I used to keep a diary full-time, and I still have them, pages and pages of them, in my 'high-school hand,' in black ink more often than not, and dated in Japanese kanji which I was learning at the time and have since forgotten how to read. But somehow that is appropriate, because I've forgotten much of that time in my life, and I wonder anyway how accurate those entries are really, only reflecting as they do the limited scope of my perceptions of life as a teenager. (That sounds so over-analytical and grown-up paranoid, I think.) My biggest worries then were whether or not my dear friend Robert was going to kill himself on any given weekend (which I shouldn't have worried about so much, because eventually he did), and whether or not Max and I would be together forever (which I shouldn't have worried about so much, because we will be--for better or for worse, tho' we aren't married and probably never will be), and losing weight (which I shouldn't have worried about so much, because I never did, and I spent too much valuable time and energy worrying that I could have just about single-handedly saved the world if I hadn't been obsessing about my thighs). These days, I worry about getting into medical school (and I lay awake nights wondering who will write me recommendations) and I worry about grades and tests, and I worry about who I am in relation to the world, and I worry about whether I will ever make a difference (which I guess I was worrying about then too). This is crazy.
More lies:
|
|||||