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Dear diary,
This is my first entry, and I have a certain number of introductory things to tell you. I don't know where to start, but I'll do my best. This is the third draft of my first entry, which should tell you something about me already. I will never tell you how I am; you will learn it as I write. I would have written this with a pencil (it makes it easier to correct mistakes) but I suppose it's not very permanent or diary-esque, is it? I don't know if I'll start every entry with "Dear diary"; it sounds so fake and corny, and it's useless. I might do it anyway.
I should tell you right now that this is not my true face. You see, since my mother tongue is French, I consider English a mask. But I can't help it; I feel ashamed when I see my French face staring back at me from a sheet of paper. I will try not to let my English face stray from reality, which it will be tempted to do (first recurring theme: division within myself).
I would like you to be like a physical copy of my mind, but there is always the possibility that someone will read you without my consent. So there are certain secrets I must keep to myself. I hope no one commits the indiscretion of looking into you, because I might lose all trust and respect for that person. Besides I have ways to find out. Still, I will try to share with you as much as I can.
I am 18 years old (birth date: May 5, 1972) and I'm pretty sure this is the first time I try to start a diary. Who knows how long it will last? There are three main reasons I'm doing this: 1) The idea has been dancing around in my head for years, 2) I've just finished reading The Secret Diary of Laura Palmer by Jennifer Lynch. (This fictional book is a spin-off of the television show Twin Peaks - prepare yourself for many mentions of this show, which is my all-time favourite and my present passion. Recurring theme #2.) Finally, 3) I felt the need to vent anger.
Anger? Well, my mother just insulted the singing of Julee Cruise (she sings three songs on the album Twin Peaks soundtrack) thus laughing at my taste at the same time. It was made worse by the fact that she had previously said she liked the singer. I cannot stand hypocrisy. My parents' generation seem to do exceedingly well at it (perhaps more about that later). My mother knows 1) how much I love the show and the singer and 2) that I always try to get other people to like what I like/love (my sister Mireille was also present). So how could she hurt me this way? She's been trying to make amends ever since in her not-so-subtle way (Mom is never subtle enough) and I've simply ignored her. I know her by heart. I'm surprised she hasn't said yet that she doesn't care and that I should stop sulking like a child. Just to get back at me. Who exactly is the child? Anyway, by the time I'm writing this, we're cool with each other again.
Right now I'm working on a project which was due yesterday and which I might not finish until tomorrow. I always do things I dislike at the last minute, and beyond. Yet I need good grades to get into the university of my choice. The theme of self-destruction is also one which will come up frequently in here.
Gotta get back to that homework. Later.
This is my first entry, and I have a certain number of introductory things to tell you. I don't know where to start, but I'll do my best. This is the third draft of my first entry, which should tell you something about me already. I will never tell you how I am; you will learn it as I write. I would have written this with a pencil (it makes it easier to correct mistakes) but I suppose it's not very permanent or diary-esque, is it? I don't know if I'll start every entry with "Dear diary"; it sounds so fake and corny, and it's useless. I might do it anyway.
I should tell you right now that this is not my true face. You see, since my mother tongue is French, I consider English a mask. But I can't help it; I feel ashamed when I see my French face staring back at me from a sheet of paper. I will try not to let my English face stray from reality, which it will be tempted to do (first recurring theme: division within myself).
I would like you to be like a physical copy of my mind, but there is always the possibility that someone will read you without my consent. So there are certain secrets I must keep to myself. I hope no one commits the indiscretion of looking into you, because I might lose all trust and respect for that person. Besides I have ways to find out. Still, I will try to share with you as much as I can.
I am 18 years old (birth date: May 5, 1972) and I'm pretty sure this is the first time I try to start a diary. Who knows how long it will last? There are three main reasons I'm doing this: 1) The idea has been dancing around in my head for years, 2) I've just finished reading The Secret Diary of Laura Palmer by Jennifer Lynch. (This fictional book is a spin-off of the television show Twin Peaks - prepare yourself for many mentions of this show, which is my all-time favourite and my present passion. Recurring theme #2.) Finally, 3) I felt the need to vent anger.
Anger? Well, my mother just insulted the singing of Julee Cruise (she sings three songs on the album Twin Peaks soundtrack) thus laughing at my taste at the same time. It was made worse by the fact that she had previously said she liked the singer. I cannot stand hypocrisy. My parents' generation seem to do exceedingly well at it (perhaps more about that later). My mother knows 1) how much I love the show and the singer and 2) that I always try to get other people to like what I like/love (my sister Mireille was also present). So how could she hurt me this way? She's been trying to make amends ever since in her not-so-subtle way (Mom is never subtle enough) and I've simply ignored her. I know her by heart. I'm surprised she hasn't said yet that she doesn't care and that I should stop sulking like a child. Just to get back at me. Who exactly is the child? Anyway, by the time I'm writing this, we're cool with each other again.
Right now I'm working on a project which was due yesterday and which I might not finish until tomorrow. I always do things I dislike at the last minute, and beyond. Yet I need good grades to get into the university of my choice. The theme of self-destruction is also one which will come up frequently in here.
Gotta get back to that homework. Later.
