The darkest nights
Alright. I have a lot of weird things on my brain and don't feel like spouting them off here. I have, however, been somewhat concerned that I've been coming off as a saint. So, here's my college essay. Read it and discover exactly how evil I can be.
And repentant, too.
And if there are major problems with it - grammar wise - please don't let me know. It's just that I've already sent it off. And am kind of sick of it. I wasn't really sure if I'd want to tell a college I did this. The prompt was "Tell us about a mistake you've made and what you've learned from it." But what if your mistake is baby killing? You may have learned deep and introspective things about your days as a baby killer, but push comes to shove, no college want's a murderer among their midst. And no college want's a girl who can't keep her mouth shut. Or has no sense of what's moral with the internet.
With that...
---
I remember my first journal clearly. It was wide and thin, covered in a hard, blue, canvas cover, and I kept it in my dresser with the ribbons neatly tying it shut. It was filled with thick, soft paper, and I would transcribe my day, usually with an illustration of the event. I wrote constantly, and felt passionately about that blue bound notebook. I shared it with my best friend Kristen. Daily, we would go through my journal, which saved me from repeating myself: my journal only contained things that I would relate to Kristen otherwise. One day, though, I was angry with Kristen and wrote an entry explaining my anger. Before she came over, I panicked and tore out the entry. I always felt guilty, not because I had wronged Kristen, but because I hadn't been loyal to the journal.
I sporadically kept a journal after this first run-in, but I couldn't bring myself to write regularly. Ten years later though, I had a personal computer instead of a blue bound notebook and discovered the world of online journals. Something about online journals fascinates me � when the Internet ever feels sterile, online journals remind me how vital it can be. Reading other people's lives always teaches me something new, and (as trite as it sounds), I love realizing how different every diarist is while they face universal issues. I fell in love with the concept, and decided to create my own. Unfortunately, I knew more about the coding language than the art of being an online diarist and let history repeat itself. I wrote about being angry with my best friend after a couple of lousy days. I left it online. She found my journal. Still, I left it online. My rationale was, "I am entitled to what I feel." I didn't realize my mistake though � I hadn't written about what I felt.
The mistake wasn't that I had said hurtful things and posted them on the Internet � that was the result of my mistake. Had I thought about it, I could have written a beautiful and thoughtful journal entry about my friendship with Katie. I could have written about my fears of becoming a close friend and losing that degree of comfort those truly intense friendships cannot have. I could have discussed the ways I compare myself to her � and instead of calling her a terrible person, I could have thought about why I ever considered calling her that. I didn�t write that entry and that was my mistake.
I didn't keep a journal for the entire summer, but by August I couldn�t keep myself from writing. I couldn't sleep and I couldn't concentrate � I had to write it all down. The result was a collage of words. On some days, I would create an amalgamation of thoughts and events strung together. On others, I would think about what I learned in my Latin class and how it related to my life and my existence. I would think about my friendships and the sense of rhythm that they bring into my life. Sometimes I get responses from my readers, and connecting with people reminds me of the reason I chose to publish my journal in the first place. Sometimes, I feel as though I've created a small and vital community.
[cough. we all know I lie]
Writing an online journal is a strange experience. I used to believe that if I were to maintain the integrity of the journal I couldn�t censor myself. I had to pretend that I was writing a journal that no one would see � otherwise I would be self-conscious and hold back my true self. I�ve learned, though, that in putting a journal online one has to be responsible. There�s a different set of rules, and you need to be loyal to your life before you�re loyal to the journal.
2000-01-25, College essay that is not about baby killing.
before / after archives / website / hello book / diaryland