This past summer, before I discovered that I could ramble toward an audience (of four) about my life, I rambled to a notebook that my friend Gaby decorated that is now falling apart. It wasn't a journal, per se, mostly just nonsense on a page.
I have an entire page, written at about midnight, dedicated to me thinking about what Hogwarts house I would be in. I'm not going to subject you to that horror. But, I am going to subject you to this:
"I think the house animal would be a bunny. Because they're cute, but vicious. No one would expect a Slytherclaw to be evil if their mascot was a bunny. The logic makes sense, I promise. [...] Hey, the motto could be always sleep with a hammer. [...] Welcome to the deterioration of my mind."
"I like rainbows. It's dark outside. I don't like dark. My neck hurts. I don't like that at all. I like Harry Potter. I also like balloons."
"I found so much when I cleaned my desk, or The Pit of Doom, as I like to call it."
"My owl is staring me down. I don't remember his name."
"I just broke a pen and now I have ink all over my hand and my sheets."
And my personal favourite here: "Just thought to myself, 'I believe in love the same way I believe in evil geniuses. Like, they're there, but not easy to come by.'"
I just... I don't... What.
In this notebook, there is also an entire page with just "From her" written in block letters at the top. Yeah.
Until next time