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Discussion Starter #1
Since I've heard a lot of you, Dreamers, lead a diary, I'd like to hear some nice passages, or the whole stories if you're interested in sharing. If it's some old stuff, please write how old were you then.

I just have a feeling that some of your diary entries might be really enjoyable or touching. I've put here some of my own, but I need to look further for the best ones, see, I have about six or seven different diaries ^^

"A month after my sixteenth birthday I pricked my finger on a spinning-wheel and I sleep till this day..."
"I want to move out because I need to stop thinking about running away from home through window every three weeks". I live on the third floor.
"I'd prefer a world where my grandfather is here to teach me about herbs and a world with my aunt still here. I'd prefer a world where my professor still gives his lectures. A world where my boyfriend's grandmother isn't bedridden and I can still get to know her".
"Life is like a lover that I really desire but somehow I can't get up to kiss him".
"If I lived in the Cossack community, my mother would need to wear a horse collar on her neck, and my beloved would be laughed upon for decades". Yep, there was no 'proof of virginity'.
"He used to be my neighbor. Then he grew up and became a musician. He was a part-time archeologist. Now, he studies political sciences. He's perfect, so perfectly beautiful it hurts. Yet, he never was."
"Today two unconnected men I've both fell in love with in 2007 were travelling in one and the same car. My belief in the irony of fate is back for good". I was invited to go too, but I figured I wouldn't be able to fight the laughter.
 

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Isn't that exactly how creating art feels? Well, at least, some times? Reminds me of this Sylvia Plath quote: "Some things are hard to write about. After something happens to you, you go to write it down and either you over dramatize it or underplay it, exaggerate the wrong parts or ignore the important ones. At any rate, you never write it quite the way you want to."
The mind can only project so much of what resides within it onto a two or three-dimensional medium inevitably leaving something behind. That's why no artist ever feels that they are skilled enough. At least, that's my personal take on it.
 

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There are some pretty solid INFP entires, now that I'm skimming through the diaries I have lying around. lol

This one is from last year:
I can't watch Doctor Who since the relatives are here, so instead I was a tourist with them.

But, it's just...

I have a list of places in the city -- places with memories, sentiments, and beauty, places I love and want to share with them. One was [an ice cream parlor, name omitted]. It's so beautiful and makes me feel cozy -- and of course the chocolates. But they didn't want to go. They walked past and were unimpressed.

I don't know. It feels like they broke my heart, rejected my soul. It was one of the places I wanted to share with them, and they didn't want it.

I'm sad and disappointed and hiding in my room with [my cat] under the bed because I can't look at them.

I know they don't know I feel this way. They think I just wanted chocolate and ice cream.
This is from a few weeks ago, it's kinda cute:

Today I went for a stroll because I felt like it. Normally I get so down about myself that even though I want to go for a stroll, I find a way to not go out. But today I did not allow that to happen!

I returned the last of the library books, went to a discount clothing store, bought some oranges and an onion, but the best part was -- I went to a pie shop!

The glory of the pie shop was not in the pie, however the pear raspberry slice with a dollop of whipped cream was really, really delicious. Mostly, the glory was in that I went into the shop!

An exercise in building self-esteem is to say "yes." An ordinary reaction to seeing the pie shop would have been to wish about going, but casting away for trivial excuses. So, I stopped myself from saying "no" and went into the shop, ordered a pear raspberry pie, and ate it by the window so all could witness this stepping stone.

I'm sure to other people -- [friend's name] sadly comes to mind -- this would seem like a silly thing to congratulate. Perhaps they would not understand what an absolutely monumental thing it was for me to say "yes." These people would not understand, but I do not need to consider them. This is an important moment for me and I will cherish this moment and refer to it when I am feeling insecure and down.
 

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@ofmyown
Not quite. I realize a lot gets lot in translation, but when I create "art" it is a very different experience that journaling.. the process itself feels different and the end product, even when very flawed, makes me feel proud/fufilled. It's just when the focus is on my petty and unfufilling inner states and trying to articulate things like that that i feel icky. The feeling is like trying to build a foundation on water.
 

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From 2 days ago:

"I've figured something out. One of the greatest joys in life is loving others. Real, honest, true love is, in the words of someone named Allender [an author from times past I read a quote of in another book but hadn't heard of otherwise], "an experience of worship that fills our beings with a joy that is so deeply in awe of the other that we are barely aware of ourselves." The happiest times in my life were the moments when I was swept up in love, either for God, or for others.

The moments that most stand out to me are [some friends of ours]'s wedding [which was wonderful; seemed like something straight out of a movie, no lie], deep and powerful spiritual conversations with others (too many to count), moments of true and pure worship singing at Mosaic [my church], and, I guess, dancing with [a girl I like].

[I went off on a romantic bunny trail here. :p]"

The things in brackets [] are additions for clarification. Other than that, it's all straight out. :blushed:
 

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But some things I do save... beacuse I haven't found them yet to throw away... that's why I like PerC, I can't find my venting posts after I make them ;D they sink to the bottom of iniquity.
i may be back with some posts later
 

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Wow... re-writing this...my journal entires get so dramatic.... I can see how I talk in black and white's sometimes and lead conversations to the path of death.

I've been an idiot and just really really mixed up. Trying to hang onto people like bargaining chips, changing myself, and editing myself, trying to force connections I don't feel anymore. I'd like to bring the sarcasm back, the honesty. The risk is at point satisfaction; congruent with throwing all petty attachments to the wind. You don't need anything that doesn't stay.

People can't bring me happiness. I ama littel scared I went down this path and I just hope it isn't the path of no return. Who am I? Defining myself in terms of others, it isn't something I'm willing to do to myself anymore. [Friend's name] doesn't KNOW me. Strangers don't KNOW me. What is there to be scared of? If you are punished for being yourself, that's a punishment I'd gladly recieve...

This reeks of desperation. Do you remember freshmen year, trying to integrate into a group so bad, npt being myself, playing to any guy? Was that worth it?! No! Was anything wrong with me? No! And Jesus, [guy's name, who is actually not a bad guy, ironically I met him at the bus station a couple weeks ago, he's really gotten himself together and I really have no idea why I wrote he was an asshole expcept perhaps lingering insecurity] thank god I didn't pursue anything with him or change for him, he's a real asshole. Was anything wrong with me? No. I just hadn't found my place. For awhile we [referring to old friends] grew together but our ships passed. That's ok. I'll treasure the years... but did you expect this transition to last forever?
going back to an old problem
"Talking deep"
"best friend"
"anger"
"mattering"
"talking bad"
"fighting"
"trust"
"forgiveness"
"like"
"status"
"annoyance"
"loyalty"
"drama"
"love"
"fun" "groups"
"I miss you"
Canyoulovemeforeverplease?

I don't feel like anyone should be able to say those things to me.
No one to help me through this right now.
1,035
funFUCK THIS
I don't know what that random number was referring to.

I hate people. I am just really frustrated and I don't understand why things happen the way they do. The common denominator is me so I need to take responsibility, but also, I can't control others: other people have faults. And sometimes they only to do is to accept it as it is. [friend's name] is making me really angry. I feel like she's a child. And I also she takes me for granted. She's very selfish. Thing is, I don't have to become her lounge chair. [other's friends name who is first friend's codependent best friend] needs her. But I don't. I don't need anyone.
Oh, you need people. Need to say words, to laugh and touch, but you don't need "deep", "soul understanding", and I don't need trust, don't need reassurance.
People are petty and selfish. Fronts and status are key. People change and feel burdened be others. Are embarrassed by others. Bored by others. Use others, and need them. So keep what you like and throw away what you don't.
I have a date with [boyfriend's name, before we were an item] in an hour and twenty minutes and I am not dressed, I have no cleaned room, and I don't know where I am going. I am sad but trying not to be.
i feel all over the place, can't get myself together. Over analyzing everything. There's not enough time in the day. These morning pages are hard. Why am I doing this? I hate these dogs and dad's incessant paranoia. Why can't he enjoy anything? Everyinth is turned into a negative. It's exhausting and I want to hide from him all the time. Now to reframe.
[in big letters with illustration] Why do peopel hurt me?
Sometimes I still think of you
and how you told me I was good enough
I am so scared everyone hates me.

I try to be a better person.
So why I feel all alone and confused
wonder
calling someone doesn't help

see what I mean?
 

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This is fun. I think I'll do moar...


and if she doesn't she hides them

beacues they are the enemy

she hides everything about herself

sometimes she feels so angry

and misunderstood

and alone and misrepresented

that living feels pointless

and she feels she has to get away or she'll die




What will I do tomorrow?
Nothing has changed except I am better at managing my emotions.

Insulting.
All he wants is the fucking morning report and the carboard cut out girl must say "I am so happy with my opprotunities!" and she doesn't make jokes or tell stories or have opinions or have feelings
I was never entirely myself with [different friend]. I am glad she cut me loose. All friends should be made by being yourself otherwise they will constict you.
I tihnk the reason I don't like my journals is bceause I can tell, even as I am writing them, they are not true. They are honestly how I FEEL but they aren't true and this bothers me.
 

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Discussion Starter #11
From 2 days ago:

"I've figured something out. One of the greatest joys in life is loving others. Real, honest, true love is, in the words of someone named Allender [an author from times past I read a quote of in another book but hadn't heard of otherwise], "an experience of worship that fills our beings with a joy that is so deeply in awe of the other that we are barely aware of ourselves." The happiest times in my life were the moments when I was swept up in love, either for God, or for others.

The moments that most stand out to me are [some friends of ours]'s wedding [which was wonderful; seemed like something straight out of a movie, no lie], deep and powerful spiritual conversations with others (too many to count), moments of true and pure worship singing at Mosaic [my church], and, I guess, dancing with [a girl I like].
Yes! Love is the most important thing. I figured out once God didn't created us to be saints, or to suffer, or to sacrifice ourself to people or ideas. Why would he create the whole amazing world with so many amazing people if he all he wanted them to do was suffer for each other? So I figured out the only thing he expects from us is love. We are supposed to fall in love with everything around as, every person, every animal, every leaf, all the landscapes, languages, all the sciences. It's tough and overbearing but it's what God does himself as we speak :)

I was inspired Riddle-Master Trilogy by Patricia A. McKillip. It's a fantasy book, I believe young adult is the term, and some people find it not ambitious enough (maybe cause there no sex and cutting heads off - though I wrote an essay for studies to prove there is sex, but Patricia writes so gentle about it). However, for me it's the most powerful thing I've read. So, there's a mission and there's a journey, but the journey is not about reaching a point but learning something. As eventually the hero is crying because he realized he just fell in love so completely with every single land he travelled through, he loves just everything. It's amazing and heartbreaking for me. I realized I want to be like this and from now on it's my philosophy of life. A week ago I've read on Zenhabits, a website for personal development, that happiness is about wanting less and limiting yourself to just a few things. Bullsh*t! If so, I don't want happiness, I prefer love, all-including, overwhelming and painful.
 

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@doris88 Exactly! And I find that my love for God makes everything else that much better. I can't really explain it, but I feel like my "standard" level of happiness has been raised above the neutral line, and life has become richer. The key to happiness isn't limiting yourself to a few things or going all-out with as many things as you can, but to realize that the things will never make you happy on their own, and take your delight in the Creator instead, which shines a light on everything else that makes it all more beautiful. As long as we make idols out of things, we won't be happy with them. But when our attention lies beyond, they aren't all-consuming and all-important, but rather icing on the cake, if that makes sense.

And when Jesus was walking around, 2000 years ago, what did he primarily do? He loved God, and he loved people, no matter who they were or whether society said they shouldn't be loved. That is what we're meant to do as well. And the more you do it, the more beautiful it becomes. People are truly miraculous, if you really think about it. Isn't it right to celebrate the people who need love the most? We're not meant to suffer for each other. Rather, we are meant to love each other. (Out of which stems the willingness to suffer for each other, if the situation demands it. But love comes first.)
 
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Here's a poem I wrote when I was probably about 5. I scanned it so you can see my lovely spelling. I have provided a translation below. See, even back then I was a bleeding heart. :)


Decoded Translation:
Love is my word. Yes, it's Cathy's word. Yes. Why does love be such a lovely word? Yes. I love love. It's the best word I have ever heard of. Yes. But the funny thing is, love is kind of funny because loving people laugh in love. That's when people are in love.
 

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Here's a poem I wrote when I was probably about 5. I scanned it so you can see my lovely spelling. I have provided a translation below. See, even back then I was a bleeding heart. :)


Decoded Translation:
Love is my word. Yes, it's Cathy's word. Yes. Why does love be such a lovely word? Yes. I love love. It's the best word I have ever heard of. Yes. But the funny thing is, love is kind of funny because loving people laugh in love. That's when people are in love.
Awwwwwwwwww...this is lovely!
 

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I Used to keep tons and tons of composition notebooks full of my thoughts,but they seem to have gotten lost and/or ripped to shreds.
I do however have some Old xanga entries:

Wednesday, 17 December 2008
  • For some reason I just feel like writing today..It's one of those days where I feel like I'm not quite here.Lost in thought.Lost in self.More soul than body.I tried to be in tune with my body it never works my soul is an overpowering creature,it takes over any situation.

    For some reason I missed her.I don't know why,my confession in my last entry? Probably.Which in then made me resent him a little bit.It's true.

    Maybe I'm a bitter person.I'm not so sure but at least i'm good at showing a sunny disposition.
    He wants me to learn to have trust.That's a hard request for a girl like me.I don't think it will happen and I'm scared of that.....




    Tuesday, 18 November 2008
    • So I feel exhausted but snow is on the ground finally so there is hope for me to cheer up and be happier.
      I love winter.It smells so great outside.Winter is the only season that sets itself apart.every other season looks the same.Winter has the magic of snow.Ever since I was little I've loved it.I remember braving the winter strong lake winds and going down to the lake anyway by myself just to slide down the hill on my multi-colored plastic sled.
      Or shoe-skating but really falling down the bruises didn't matter we always were able to get back up and fall again and again and yet again.
      The one thing I never liked was the emptiness of docks.Every other time they were there.Without the many of docks in the water it looks so isolated barren.Like you could imagine how it felt so long ago when the natives lived there.although back then there happened to be more trees.A forest of trees or so I've heard....


      Monday, 10 November 2008
      • I'm in a half-soaked hoodie.Thanks to dryers that don't work..and money I don't have.
        Have you ever felt like leaving? Jumping in a strangers car and going somewhere unknown to you?That's how I feel right now.I could care less where I would go to as long as it's away from here.from this place.It's a good thing I can't drive if I could I would never be here.I would drive and drive if my car would break down while I guess that's a sign to stay put that's how I would view it.
        Do I seem completely nuts? absurd?
        yeah maybe..

        Thursday, 18 September 2008
        • Nostalgia.I think that I look back on old memories too much.I'm constantly thinking of the past and ways I could of changed it.Looking back at old pictures or songs that remind me of a certain place and a certain time a certain person.I should probably not do that anymore huh? I wish I was back in my old life at times but then I dont it's all confusing and hard to sort out.My mind is like a bullet let out into the universe escaping but never hitting anything directly.








 

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Journaling for me is VERY sporadic. I don't journal all the time because if I have nothing 'big' to say, it's not worth saying at all. I also feel like if my entry is small it's a waste of paper space. lol. I write in my journal (composition notebook) whenever I feel like it (which is once every few months or longer. It's funny becuase when it comes to my personal blogging, I feel better about it. I will post out a passage from one of my entries later. I'm tired now.
 

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This is from just yesterday. (since starting to travel last year, I've sporadically kept a journal. When I was young, I wrote in my diaries almost as voraciously as I read, but in a fit of raging shame at about age 15 I burnt them all -- one of my biggest regrets.) :(

A storm is rolling in over the trees – distant thunder is audible and diffuse lightning flashes every one or two seconds. Although clouds are drifting ever nearer and general haziness envelops most of the night sky, quite a few stars are still visible. Fireflies twinkle about me, ranging from the dewy grass soaking my feet to the swaying treetops several dozens of feet above. A jet plane flies low, the noise of its engines struggling to keep pace with its image as it flies out of sight. Who are the passengers; where are they going? Do they feel how I felt on my long night flights? – ensnared in a twilight world, marked by dim cabin lights, flickering television screens, people shifting uncomfortably as they’re caught between sleep and wakefulness. But the thought fades away, because I am not trapped now, standing in our meadow surrounded by the chirping of cicadas and the far-off snorts of a deer, the wet grass tickling my toes and the fresh scent of outdoors. As the storm rumbles closer and the first raindrops are earthbound, a spontaneous joy seizes me and I life my arms to the sky. Here, in this moment, I am connected to the universe, in the midst of the ebb and flow of life’s very essence. I spin in circles, eyes raised to the heavens. Rarely have I felt so alive and so happy simultaneously.

Now the rain falls in sheets. The night outside my window is impenetrably black, but I hear the rain steadily rushing against the millions of leaves. This moment is exquisite, wonderful, and if I didn’t need to sleep I’d want to stay like this for a while longer. If there’s an afterlife, this is what it should sound like.
 

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This is from my late childhood diaries, and it how I imagined it would be to come from a grown-up party. Keep in mind that it is a fast translation from another language.

Now we’ve grown up and are traveling by car. The music is pumping while look through the window, mouth-opened. Outside, the lights of the factories are like fallen stars, sleeping calmly in the immensity of the night. I’m not afraid because I’m having fun tonight.
 
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I think INFPs love to share their diary entries :)


"Saturday, August 28, 2010

Hello boy that plays the guitar every Friday night and during the weekends. Your beautiful strumming is carried down to the floor below me through the pipes. I can hear every musical beat that comes from your guitar. It’s beautiful. I will meet you someday."
 

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In my attic there's a box full of very private journals I wrote from 1990-1993. One of my psych profs had us journal all the time & she would read them but didn't grade them. I loved to write that stuff, it was therapeutic. But if I died & someone discovered them they'd go "OMG! What a freak! I had no idea!" so I'm inclined to shred them sometime. They were mostly about self-discovery, philosophical meanderings, rants & my weird humor. I think after 3 years of reading those the prof knew me better than my own wife. (ex now)
 
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