At the age of 14, I seem to have experienced a series of revelations. What they were, I couldn’t tell you. Also, I had a penchant for similes.

March 3, 1996 Sunday, 9:45 pm

I hate skiing.

March 4, 1996 Monday, 8:00 pm

The revelation last weekend was enormous. I feel as if my entire world has fallen down around me and I’m beginning to pick up the pieces slowly and place them in a totally new and more difficult position as if I was looking through a warped window.

March 7, 1996 Thursday, 9:00 pm

I’m going to sleep in a few moments because I am still exhausted from the weekend’s happenings. Monday I was picked up early before lunch and double gym because I was almost asleep even while seated at my desk.

Today I stayed home from school because I was still exhausted and am getting a cold, as I have a hoarse throat and the Social Sciences competition on Saturday.

Enough of my ailments. The thing that is really bothering me is that revelation of mine. I haven’t quite gotten there yet in my account of the weekend.

But tonight I shan’t continue, as I don’t want to write about it.

Actually, this year I have had a series of revelations. They are the hard, cold realizations about things/people that I seem to hit repeatedly like a black wall. This one obviously had a big effect on me and how I deal with people, as you shall hear about.

March 10, 1996 Sunday, 8:40 pm

Wow! I am getting SO much done on my explanation of my revelation (I’m being sarcastic). But it’ll have to wait still another night because I am exhausted further than I was before because I slept over at Ashley’s house last night.

Besides adding to exhaustion, the sleepover also added to my revelation.

So, I’ll have to write more tomorrow to make up for it. I’m so tired. And I have a cold. And I’m cold physically.

March 23, 1996 Saturday, 10:05 pm

Too many revelations in one month are more than I want to handle. Yes, more. And I haven’t finished writing one of them yet.

Human nature is a twisted, knotted ball of yarn. Only certain nimble and strong fingers can unravel it. Sometimes those fingers become caught in the mess. As I now am.

I feel depressed. I feel sick, sad, and exhausted when thinking of skiing or school or karate. Maybe a part of this is that I am exhausted, as today was the Gladiator Qualifications. Do I need to even write that in the midst of my first three turns, my ski just flew off and therefore I was DQ’d? Do I have to write about how M lectured me on sliding over a mogul while practicing on the jump, or that he grabbed my jacket sleeve and pulled me over to him because I was blocking the view of three old men who were watching G’s run?

Do I have to write that R is starting to like M (he’s moved from “1st-degree a**-hole to “3rd degree”), and so she let him help her with her competition bib, which he tied to her in obvious pleasure and much like a love-sick puppy…Do I have to write it? Surely you already know the tedious and predictable details.

It makes me cringe to realize that I must still go back and finish writing about the last competition, at which I reached a revelation, before I can write about the new happenings in my life. I feel as though I am living in a time warp. I am looking to the past to understand people, and yet they are always changing.

I do not want to ski. I do not want to be in karate. I do not want to return to school. I just want to get away from my life.

April 7, 1996 Sunday 12:51 pm

Before I continue working on stinking plays for writing contests, I should finish my revelation because I am behind in writing about everything else. Sometimes I wish life would just halt so I could get caught up. But then I would have to write about what it is like to be stopped in time, and my purpose would be defeated.
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