Wednesday 3rd July 2024, 11:30
I am sat in the library, It has been a year since my arrival at the boarding school.
It is quiet today.
Well, this week is quiet due to year 12 students going to their work experiences for three days. I had taken my work experience days just two weeks before today. So, I've already done mine.
Here I am sat, on the bright wooden table, in the far corner of the library, listening to a man mow the field noisily.
I write up all of my dairy entries onto this blog, after taken so long to find a place to upload my dairy entries for this blog.
One thing, I have noticed in my dairy entries, is that it is full of gloom, and I seem to inwardly wince at every sentence I have written, and started to slowly see that I did not like my character at that moment, when I was scribbling away in my dairy at the start of the year.
The more I read, the more I begin to realise my immaturity in these pages, my lack of attempt to at least be strong, and to actually do something to distract myself. But instead, it seems, I moped in my room.
As of this present, I am thinking of all the things I could've done, such as reading, or continuing with my story, or watching YouTube clips.
Yet, instead, I moped.
Wrote to the pages.
To be frank, I am quite disturbed by my own entries.
And I think, I realise now what I was doing: Self-pitying.
It has taken me so long to realise HOW I was self-pitying, and at last I managed to see it.
You see, people- can't specify who- would say I needed to do something and to stop self-pitying.
The thing is, they always gave examples of the self-pitying, but none of them matched me.
But, there are other forms, and I witnessed it in my entries. It is the worst thing I've ever read.
Yes, I still have issues with being open with my vulnerabilities, but surely I could've read? I brought books, they would have sufficed. But then again, I needed to document my journey, I would've recorded my emotions, regardless of what my occupations were.
I write.
Writing is my therapy... in a way.
I write whenever I feel something strongly, either negatively or positively.
Lately, I have written in my passion of hatred, contempt and absolute helplessness.
But I do write my happy moments, just in the form of story or merely discussing cute romance that I read in books.
I know that sometimes writing when I'm emotional led to a good piece of writing, but also, sometimes it can be rubbish and bluntly ridiculous.
Yes, I am saying my emotions are ridiculous.
They seem so small and pointless and st*pid.
I feel stupid.
Just from reading the entries.
But, yes, I will upload them anyways, hopefully it progresses.
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