I have been writing in a journal on an almost-daily basis since I was 17 years old. This is a record of me going through each entry from the beginning, and commenting on the me from fifteen years ago.

Every tear that fell Sent a hope out across the world. A wish for things better to soon come Instead of dangling before everyone. A tear for you, a tear for me, a note of emotion for all. In this is given every pent up spirit found, Behind the wall skull of thought. Free and Laughing Giving and trying To find something not lost Just hiding. Tears dropping to left and to right Something hiding was found in the world tonight.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: I hate the poetry sections of this journal!