First Entry: I love flipping through all the pages of a book I am reading, so I catch quick peeks of the words ahead. I usually hate writing in pencil because I cannot erase my mistakes in life and should not be allowed to erase my mistakes on paper. But sometimes it's just softer, and erasing can be nice. I think I will stop writing now, because I have a tiny cut on my finger that my hand sweat is stinging as I write. Oh! One more small sentence; I write in this journal about my life because I believe you, Reader who found my journal entries, may be a self-indulgent teenager like me, and you might enjoy hearing of my sometimes apathetic, sometimes manic babbling. You should somehow find me and begin writing back to me if you are interested in a friendship.
Entry #2: Ayer (this means "yesterday" in Spanish - diversity is rejuvenating sometimes), I talked to my mom about my depression. I thought it would not help. It did help. We sat in our running car in our driveway for one hour and talked. I will not see a psychiatrist, because I have enough people to talk to if I need to sometimes. Today is a day that we stay home, because it is snowing. I enjoy the snow. It is ironically called "pure" even though it has been through more than most of us have. It is part of the eternal water cycle, after all, which means that it is pretty old. Perhaps, though, it is reborn every time it goes through the water cycle process, which is why we call it pure - it is as new as an infant with every journey it makes from Heaven to Earth. Either way, it is pure compared to the gritty shopping mall near my house that shelters as much crime as it shelters homeless folks. I went there ayer. I felt pretty good, too, after talking about my depression. I told my dad that I enjoy not wearing my glasses sometimes because it allows for lines to be blurry. I met my friend at the mall, and I told her the truth about how happy I feel now, and I told her that I think this happiness is not lying to me about its intentions. It wants me to be happy. We discussed advancements in our lives while I paranoidly looked over my shoulder to make sure no one was about to commit a crime on us. I bought a new skirt that I can wear sometimes,and last night my mom ordered me a dress that I will probably enjoy. Enjoyments happen often; I love when they do. I should say, "I love when I do", because I am the one who makes things into enjoyments for myself. I enjoy night. I told my dad the truth when I told him that the brightness of the sky has a reverse effect on my mood. The daytime competes with my brightness and mocks my secret inner darkness. It sneers as it burns my skin and tells me that I will never be brighter than it. It makes me envious sometimes. The night is much cooler. With it specks of unexpected light, it shows me silently that darkness is beautiful in its mystery. It often creates more life than does day (people do usually have sexual intercourse at night). The night whispers that I can be brighter than it, easily, but it asks if I really want to be that bright. Being dark has its own brightness. I think it tells me the truth. And day isn't as happy as it seems, anyway. Maybe I shouldn't envy it.
Third Entry: I write in pen today, which I do like using more than pencil. My mom and sister and me just went to the phone store. We bought my sister the iPhone. I resist. I told my mom that I do not want one, because my sister is already starting to not listen to me when I talk. She was talking to her best friend forever and told her that she is confused and might need her help (her best friend has the iPhone). She told my sister that she would help. I wonder if she will always help my sister when she is confused. I no longer speak to my old best friend, but I have a few others, anyway, including my sister. I am okay. My Nana was talking over the computer to my Great Aunt whose son (my cousin) died a few weeks ago.My Nana talked with her about loneliness, and she said that everyone ends up alone in the end, anyway. She did not say "anyway", though, as if to indicate that relationships are not worth the hassle, because they all end in the end. I added the "anyway". My Nana was speaking with the purpose of comforting my Great Aunt, because they have both lost their husbands and some siblings, too. My Nana told me that her mother used to get sad that none of her ten children lived with her anymore once she grew old, and then her husband died. She was alone in the end. My Nana lives with us, though, so I do not think of her as being alone, although she does live downstairs by herself. Maybe vivid memories are all we should hope to last of our relationships.

Entry #4: I am looking out the window; it is a good thing that I see my sister's car.

Fifth Entry: I wrote the previous words this morning from my AP World History class. I could see my sister's car parked in the far corner of the lot, and , later, when we got into the car to drive home, it was warm inside despite the stale frigidness surrounding it. It was parked in the path of the Sun all day. I suppose the obnoxious brightness of day is beneficial, sometimes.