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Post by alicelogan on Jul 20, 2010 18:11:21 GMT -5
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Post by alicelogan on Jul 28, 2010 9:54:53 GMT -5
PAGE ONE [/color] * what if i wanted to break? From childhood’s hour I have not been As others were; I have not seen As others saw; I could not bring My passions from a common spring. From the same source I have not taken My sorrow; I could not awaken My heart to joy at the same tone; And all I loved, I loved alone. Then- in my childhood, in the dawn Of a most stormy life- was drawn From every depth of good and ill The mystery which binds me still: From the torrent, or the fountain, From the red cliff of the mountain, From the sun that round me rolled In its autumn tint of gold, From the lightning in the sky As it passed me flying by, From the thunder and the storm, And the cloud that took the form (When the rest of Heaven was blue) Of a demon in my view.
- Edgar Allan Poe.
Yes, I'm morbid. Shut up.
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Post by alicelogan on Jul 28, 2010 10:10:48 GMT -5
PAGE TWO [/color] * i used to be such a burning example It's not at all morbid if I'm lonely. What's wrong with being morbid, anyway? I miss my friends, my life... everything. But I'm not going to whine. No, whining gets me no where, right? Besides, things with Lily are starting to look up. I'm to be her maid of honor at her wedding in a few weeks, and that's exciting. We're going to the fitting soon and I've got a lovely preview of the fabric to be used. That's exciting, right? Yes. I like shopping.
Love it.
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Post by alicelogan on Jul 28, 2010 13:25:00 GMT -5
PAGE THREE [/color] * there's always something more you wish he'd say
Sirius is unbelievable.
Sirius is awful.
Sirius is happy.
Sirius deserves to be happy.
Sirius is over.
Sirius means nothing to me.
Sirius is inconsequential.
Sirius is history.
Sirius loves Marlene.
Sirius knows Marlene loves him.
Sirius is happy with Marlene.
And that's okay.
For them.
Is it stupid to still be in love with him?
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Post by alicelogan on Jul 28, 2010 13:32:48 GMT -5
PAGE FOUR [/color] * just like a prayer, i know your voice will take me there
No, diary, never mind that––it's not true. There's nothing between Sirius and I except filial affection. I love him as I do a brother. He's my friend, my best friend. He's my always. But I do not love him.
Do not.
So, from here on out, I'm going to stop writing about him. Going to stop... this ridiculous, stupid, babyish whining. I'm almost a woman, you know. Almost. I'm sixteen and this year I'll be turning seventeen and this is a big deal because I'll be an adult, a legal adult. I have to start behaving like an adult. I have to put the past behind me and I... I have to grow up. I've been awful, you see. Been awful to everyone and––I've got to fix this. Starting with those who matter most. Like Lily. Oh, dear, sweet, Lily, whom I've been neglecting in favor of sadness these past few weeks. And it's insane, diary, because she's getting married and that's sort of a big deal. And I should be happy for her, because she's my best friend and I love her and I'm to be her maid of honor. It wouldn't be very honorable of me to keep ditching her, would it?
I'm going to make her muffins. That's what I'll do. I'll go surprise her with muffins before we go dress shopping. Muffins make everything better.
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Post by alicelogan on Jul 28, 2010 13:36:06 GMT -5
PAGE FIVE [/color] * waiting for someone to push you away
I forgot.
Sirius is going to be at the wedding.
Not writing about him, remember, Alice?
Anyway. I looked over the guest list today; it's going to be a comparatively small wedding. Beautiful, though, just like Lily deserves. Most people are coming with a 'date.' In couples. For the dance, you know. And I was just thinking... I don't even have anyone to ask to dance with me.
It's a good thing I don't dance.
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Post by alicelogan on Jul 29, 2010 11:05:47 GMT -5
PAGE SIX [/color] * forever and almost always The wedding's tomorrow. It's really exciting. Can't wait to help get Lily dressed and see her walking down that aisle. She deserves this, you know. She really does deserve to be happy. I'm just hoping her special day will go perfectly––that it'll be everything she's ever dreamed of.
Still... I can't help but be a little worried about the correspondence I shared with Rita. Rita Skeeter, that is. I'm going to try to push it as far as I can from my mind because I don't want it disturbing me at Lily's wedding. I mean, it shouldn't be too hard to do that, right? Because Rita's not invited, of course. Ugh. I really cannot stand that girl. I know it's wrong of me to judge anyone harshly but my hatred––yes, hatred––for her is on principle. She behaves like a little child, trying to ensnare me in one of her foolish traps.
I only hope it didn't work.
It's just that she had to go and remind me of Sirius and of the drama last year, and that's the one thing I've been trying to forget all summer. That's why I've been going to muggle therapy because I'm trying to forget the thing she just waved in my freaking face. And not to mention, she just reinforced my guilt, my sadness, my freaking depression, because that's apparently what I have, according to my shrink. Awesome, right? Oh, but it gets better. Evidently, she and Sirius have had a few laughs about what happened last year.
A few laughs.
I just... I just don't understand, diary. They laughed about me? She had to have been lying. She had to. That can't be true––I know Sirius better than that.
Then why am I still crying?
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Post by alicelogan on Jul 31, 2010 23:51:08 GMT -5
PAGE SEVEN [/color] * what would you do, if you knew?
We were attacked.
Oh, Merlin.
Oh, God.
Oh, whoever.
How could this have happened? How could it––on Lily's day––how––why––
I just don't understand, journal. I just don't understand. I can't write about this now. My grandparents are here to collect me from St. Mungo's and––oh, Merlin. I can't do this now.
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Post by alicelogan on Sept 5, 2010 13:53:49 GMT -5
PAGE EIGHT [/color] * so i let all my walls come down
I literally do not know what to do with myself. How am I supposed to exist after what happened? After Lily's special day was ruined, after Johnny and James were nearly killed, after Mr. and Mrs. Potter were swallowed by fiendfyre, after Marls' family was murdered when she got back home, after so many were hurt and bruised and burned and scarred for life? How am I supposed to exist after all those things, diary? I still don't know what happened to me. How I survived in one piece. Everything of that afternoon was a blur and I just––I just don't––
How did I survive? I should have been doing something, I should have been helping people, I should have been the one dying trying to save someone rather than lying on the floor, getting trampled on like I have been all my life. Who the fuck am I to have survived? I don't deserve this. I don't deserve to be sitting here on my porch, writing in my diary, feeling the sun on my face and the wind in my hair, when Mr. and Mrs. Potter are dead, and will never feel the sun or the breeze ever again. One split second of time could have saved them. One split second. And who's to say that that second couldn't have been provided by me? It could have. If I had been there, if I had been closer, if I had tried harder, fought harder, sacked up and acted like a fucking adult, then their lives could have been spared.
One split second.
And they could have lived.
One split second.
And I could have done something for someone else.
One split second, diary. One split second.
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Post by alicelogan on Sept 5, 2010 14:22:29 GMT -5
PAGE NINE [/color] * everything looks better when the sun goes down
I start too many sentences with 'I.'
Me, me, me. I, I, I.
But what about other people, diary? What about the people for whom the words 'I' and 'me' are like foreign delicacies on their tongues? Or what about people who don't live long enough to say them as many times as me?
Am I selfish? Don't answer that. I know I am. I'm selfish and conceited and I think I'm far too self-centered for my own good. Even when it's not outright about me, it's still... about me. You know what I mean? Everything is about me, ever since... last year. Even though nothing was about me, then. Not outright. It was all about Marlene. And yet, still, I find it within myself to be selfish. Somehow, I'm still selfish.
Think of Frank, I tell myself. Think of Marlene. Think of Sirius. Of Lucy. Of William. Of anyone else who was involved in that whole mess last year. I think of them––or else, I try to––and of how they feel. Especially Marlene, now that her family is dead.
Especially Frank.
It's time that I stop being selfish, diary. It's time that I move past myself and past my own sadness and reach out to others.
It's time for me to grow up.
Death happens. What's important is, how do you react? What's more important is, how do you help those reacting?
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Post by alicelogan on Sept 5, 2010 14:25:31 GMT -5
PAGE TEN [/color] * pour me the universe
Okay. Okay. I'm taking my own advice and I'm writing to Marls. I'm going to be forgiving and I'm going to reach out to her and I'm going to stop being selfish.
Okay.
I can do this.
Right?
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Post by alicelogan on Sept 5, 2010 14:47:24 GMT -5
PAGE ELEVEN [/color] * this problem's gunna last more than the weekend
I did it. I actually did it. I owled her and I talked to her and... she's not doing very well. I do worry about her. Is that silly? No, it's not silly, I'll answer that myself. She never was my friend––or anything close to my friend––but she means the world to Sirius and thus I have to understand that and extend the offer of friendship to her, anyway. So I'm making her muffins. Just blueberry muffins. Maybe with some glaze. I don't know if she likes glaze... oh, I don't know anything about her, but... but she needs muffins. I can tell. And she eventually accepted her need of muffins too. It's hard to ignore, really. So, I'll be bringing them to her tomorrow. You know, to her apartment. Or house. Or wherever she lives. I don't know. Just. Bringing the muffins.
I'm the muffin man.
Oh, Merlin. What have I done?
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Post by alicelogan on Sept 5, 2010 22:08:11 GMT -5
PAGE TWELVE [/color] * anything is better than to be alone
I've decided that Marlene should be religious. Believing in something bigger than herself might benefit her. Or, at least, lead her to accept charity with something more than barbed remarks. But, you know, that's just me being all holier than thou.
Still.
Find God, Marlene Sophia McKinnon.
Find God.
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Post by alicelogan on Sept 5, 2010 22:32:17 GMT -5
PAGE THIRTEEN [/color] * celebrate good times, come on
Holy Merlin, diary. Holy Merlin. I just received my school supply list, and with it came a little letter from Professor Dumbledore, and––I'm to be a Ravenclaw Prefect! This is amazing! Oh, oh, oh! Diary, you have absolutely no idea how utterly thrilled this makes me! I haven't been this happy in weeks! Just look at all my exclamation points! This is amazing!
But, just wait. It gets better! Along with that was a letter from Madam Hooch and Professor McGonagall, asking me if I'd be interested in being the Quidditch Match Commentator for the year, and to give them a final answer the first day back! Oh, gosh! It's just amazing! Maybe this year will be better after all. (:
Little me, Prefect and Commentator. Just imagine it!
Take that, Sirius.
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Post by alicelogan on Nov 21, 2010 21:55:39 GMT -5
PAGE FOURTEEN [/color] * it was never my intention
I barfed in Marlene's kitchen. We're talking in the sink, in front of her, real, actual, barf. It was the most––the most––embarrassing thing in the entire freaking world. Ugh, how am I ever going to be able to face her again, diary? After that... horrible, unmentionable thing I did in her kitchen. That's it, yes, that's it: I won't ever face her again. I just. I won't.
I refuse.
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