Entry #2

Dear World,

Today is Sunday.

I used to love Sundays. Now I hate Sundays.

Maybe one day I will love Sundays again.

I finished reading book #1 today. I started book #2.

Book #1. Freedom Writers: A beautiful compilation of diary entries of disadvantaged teens. It caused me to consider becoming a high school English teacher in the future. I hate how I complain about stupid, meaningless, petty things. I don't want to be an advantaged white girl who does nothing to save the world. I'm going to use my power to help others.

Book #2. Cranked: I am about halfway finished with this story. I can't seem to put it down. It is a terrifying portrayal of "the monster". Give hugs, don't take drugs.

I didn't run today. Running and I have a strenuous relationship. I love running, training, and competing. I hate caring about how I race, and I am still smoldering in the ashes of my disastrous spring track season. Of my junior year. The most important year in recruiting. I fucked up. I'm not going to be able to run competitively in college. I LOVE running. I just wish that I didn't give a damn about how I perform. Caring only hurts me. Whenever I care about something, I screw it up. Every person that I have cared about has had something tragic happen to them or has left. It's better if I don't care. But I do. I am human. It sucks.

This year, I tried to learn how to love. It worked, to an extent. I am not broken, but rather, I am bruised. Bruises heal. At least that is what I tell myself.

Wilder gives me hope. I look forward to teaching him. He deserves the world. I don't know how I will one day love my kids more than I love him.

Maybe tomorrow I will write my opinion on a subject. Maybe not. This is my blog. I make the rules.