Everyday I read all these diaries and I see how differently each person writes. The talent amazes me. The love of words that I see and the ability that these people have in expressing themselves just amaze me. I am being repetitive but it does. I am even a tad jealous if I am totally honest. The person I am reading may be real descriptive - a natural artist with words. Another person may be short and to the point.
So, which am I? I have always loved words but I find myself often in a place were words don't come easy. Supposedly this diary is to help me with that? Hmmm well maye it has to some degree. But even here I find myself grasping for thoughts and words and descriptions of how I really feel. So I struggle to put something down. I know I need this. These words can be cathartic if I let them be. I don't even mind that anyone reads them. They are still me, my thoughts, my dreams, my dashed hopes, my anger - a way to exhibit just me. I don't have to pretend not to be angry at the man I love cause I don't want to hurt his feelings yet another time in my moody day. I also don't have to be so blasted cheerful and positive - the way that I feel that I have to be so much of the time (I think that's a requirement of being a minister's wife).
But here - this is a haven of sorts. A place to be me. Just me. The best and the worst. A place to whine and cry and moan and groan and even shout happy words or scream nonesense if need be. I can be me. Just me. Wouldn't it be nice if I could feel comfortable just "being me" in my real world? The world outside these typewritten words?
Sigh! I guess that's what diarylands for eh?October 11, 2006 - 2006-10-11
Back from Vacation - 2006-07-18
July 3, 2006 - 2006-07-04
Parenting is Hard - 2006-06-30
Update June 23, 2006 - 2006-06-23