diana (me) -- this website's owner/operator; 15/f


patsy -- poet and dreamer; 16/f


meredith -- humorist and saint; 16/f


him -- hunter and listener; 16/m


'fred' -- counselor and taxi; 17/m




21:53;   You know that movie House on Haunted Hill? It's about this evil doctor who abused his victims during a 1930s insane asylum and then it later being haunted. Anyway, I found a "true" story:
"This site, which now lies deep in the woods, was once a mental institution for many 'crazy' children in the 1930's. There is also a hospital associated with the abandoned cabins that lies 10 miles away. The children who had a tendency to be violent or suffer from depression were sent here to help 'calm' their nerves and help them with the recovery process. The children that were bad were strapped to the beds with belts and beaten until they were unconscious. Many the children were killed and due to this cruelty, the facility was closed and the gate around the hospital's perimeter was chained closed. Many reports have been made stating that lights have been seen in many of the windows at night including the shadows of what appear to be children."
Spooky, huh? It's almost as spooky as the names of these places.

10:19;   As for me, it is illegal for me to carry an icecream cone in my backpocket on Sundays. Bummer.


23:37;   JKL
I'm really surprised in how many people I know are depressed, or sad, or whatnot. As for my status, I quote: "It's a space between happiness and sadness-- I'm on a rollercoaster." That's because there's been shit that's happened in the past with myself and others that I wish never happened-- and I'm yet glad they happened, because if they didn't, where would I be today? Would I be the same person I am, or what? Everyone has their dark side. I wish I never saw any of them.
Since I started middle school, I was considered the "therapist" figure to my friends-- the one they knew could trust and just listen. And since I was considered this figure that I-- in the beginning-- didn't want to be, then I had to live up to the responsibilities of hearing so many things from so many people about so many topics-- whether it be about pregnancy, PMS, suicide, or whatnot. Which also lead me to see the dark sides of people. I asked someone, Are you happy?, and got this response--
well, everyone else says i should be, my family says i'd better be... no one sees a reason why i shouldn't be. but ... i dont know what i think
I don't know... I just don't see why people are so sad.

11:10;   There was a short rainstorm this morning (Which is odd to begin with-- only a few weeks ago, the weather gods told us we were going to be in a major drought.) and I took the opportunity to drag my brother outside and we danced in it. Actually, to be honest, I've danced in the rain one other time this summer, but I didn't want to comment on it because it ended in a fight with Him about maturity. (He thought the idea of dancing in the rain was "childish"-- I, of course, disagreed.) But you know, I'm at least getting my list of things to do over the summer done in a nice pace.


21:17;   It's weird being alone at a lake, watching the sailing boats flutter past you. I stood there on the beachy shore watching the group wander around in this small boats, crashing into the waves and gliding across the wind. I looked at each sailor -- if you will -- at a time, taking careful note about how each of them moved. Geese surrounded me, looking at every direction (particularly at the huge human in the midst of them-- ie, me.) and the wind blowing through my hair.
This lasted for about an hour, up until the sun seemed to start to decend into the sky. It wasn't really a romantic moment standing there... it was just an answer to my troubles for the moment.


23:57;   One thing that is important in a friendship is trust. It seems to me that very few friendships have this anymore, and thus the friendships are just a mindless game. And that's what happened to me-- it all came down today.
About four days ago (this is an estimate), a friend of mine gave me a call. This friend was all grief-stricken, and scared. I asked him what was wrong, and he mentioned that another friend of mine was suffering from amnesia. You don't fool around with diseases and me-- I believe everyone that I come across, from a friend getting a case of amnesia to a healthy virgin getting AIDS. So, anyway, for a few days I was just very cautious around her. I talked to her today for the first time. She seemed okay, I guess... complex, perhaps.
She (my bestfriend) called the amnesia chick later on. The chick answered, reconizing Her voice immediately. So She and I did research via the chick's best friend, who had no idea what the hell any of us were talking about.
Around-- ehh-- 6:30 PM, the chick sends me an e-mail appologizing for everything and that it was all a prank to pull on people for a week-- something about an illness. I forgave her with open arms. But it's just weird how trust plays an important role in a friendship (or a relationship, for that matter) and yet we all take it so lightly.


16:42;   Because my inside is outside
My right side's on the left side
Cause I'm writing to reach you now but
I might never reach you

- Travis, "Writing to Reach You" (Full Lyrics)


16:54;   The grandfather that I remember is only left on video tapes and in pictures. He died after the Christmas of 1987. My parents and I lived with my grandparents at the time. He stayed alive to see me open my presents one last time, to see my smiling face, to see the snow fall on the concrete. He knew he was dying. He tried to stay happy about it all around me, because he hated seeing me sad. I saw that tape of that Christmas a few times, and you can tell he was dying. You can tell it was close. But you could also tell he was happy that I was happy, that I was opening my presents and had an attitude as if nothing in the world could possibly be wrong. He died of cancer. My mother wrote about it in my baby book:
Poppy died on Jan 4, '88. You really don't understand what that means now but you will. Poppy watched you alot and you were his favorite since we did live at home with them. You made Poppy's last painful years the happiest. When you laughed, he did, when you cried, he did. When you were bad, he couldn't yell at you because he didn't want to see you cry. You will miss him; we all will.


12:17;   If there is one thing I regret doing this year, it was my decision not to attend the seniors' graduation. Maybe because I knew what I'd see there -- people making fools out of themselves by "raising the roof" (or is it "da" roof?) on stage, and kissing and hugging and tears. Maybe I couldn't handle it at the time -- all that love and joyfullness -- but, oh, how I regret things later. I wanted to see people that I knew that I wouldn't see again, even if I hated them will all of my guts. I wanted to watch the choir play one last time this schoolyear. I wanted to watch the faces of the girlfriends as their loving beaus take their diploma and with a suave motion, walk off the stage into their future. I don't know. But I wish I could see those thing happen.
When we went to His brother's graduation, I told Him something. As the graduating class, smiling and giggling and giving each other high-fives, left, I said, "Think about it. They're going into their futures. I feel sorry for them -- they have to be scared." I still think this is true. I still regret the graduation. I wanted to see them go into their future.

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