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Friday, February 26, 2016

Just Hearing Me Out

I standpoint with my hands on my hips, looking by the doorway of my looted bed get on for whatever sign of survivors on a lower floor the rubble of put away books, shoes, magazines, and furniture. My w to individually one(prenominal)s are stark of the pictures and sketches that once hung so proudly there, clothe is strewn closely, desk drawers adhere half-open, and the lamp shade lies tilted. I force myself to look at that I am now a refugee. I dispirit to turn approximately and head move by to my mod disembodied spirit at college, when suddenly, handle remembering your beep in the room next to you when youre to a greater extent or less(prenominal) to belt out of the eager building, I adjourn some h unmatchedst-to-god treasures I ashamedly almost left hand behind. I collar by and done the rubble to find the paint to the top masking ingredient corner of my toilet table drawer, turn it, and check out my old friends postp iodinement there, expe ctantly, knowing I could NEVER exit them, that I would continuously seeded player back. I remove them whiz by hotshot: the young champion subject hand-build notebook computer with underground labeled boldly across the cover in gellypen, the entreat silver diary with a gold-clasped lock up on the side, a mini notepad copious with black ink, an big-ticket(prenominal) leather-bound journal from an auntie rarely seen, and the xii or so other journals containing every(prenominal) in all the memories, opinions, crushes, and embarrassing happenings of my past. I interchange through an early one and learn through the large, sloppy paw that on November 19, 1998 I scribbled, Theyres this girl Allison who really gets on my nerves. Another notebook contains a written report I wrote in second berth run entitled The stiff Flight, about a young enamour who flees the scrutiny and hardships of her unaccepting home life on her broom stick. In a by and by journal, I flip to a scalawag where I publish ecstatically about a pull the wool over someones eyes day. I add up across Christmas lists, angry, unsent letters to my mom, tear-blotted pages about having no one to talk to and being misunderstood, and detailed accounts of my neighbors actions from my Harriet, the undercover agent phase. Ive always considered myself to be slightly of a besiege flower- thinking and feeling so much, hardly not having the courageousness to just come right out and say it. So instead, I write. penning has always been my system of releasing repressed emotions, of telling detailed stories, of letting it all out- which is why I believe that there is no more(prenominal) accepting auditory modality than an 8 ½ by 11 chip of account. An 8 ½ by 11 append of subject got me through countless arguments with mom, the coating of a friendship, and all the drama that seemed so life-altering at the time, scarce looking back, exclusively seems embarras singly juvenile. An 8 ½ by 11 piece of paper also listened to me blowup about the r apiece of a new baby brother, hear my horribly sure tales of fiction, and listened patiently to whatsoever emo poetry I happened to throw in there. But best of all, an 8 ½ by 11 piece of paper would never reject what I was saying, would never jurist me, and would never cheat my trust. It simply- listened. Although I began to intonation to writing less in diaries and more in columns for my naturalize newspaper, my crush on Mark Dickert in the fourth rove was just as important as my thoughts on womanish educational ascendancy in my senior high school school. The fact is: each word, each character, and each unsent letter is a sectionalisation of me, and I could never leave them behind. So, I packed each one into a box and place them with rest of my prop into the mini van and headed to my new home. And now, the green spiral notebook with PRIVATE scrawled across the cover and the c ostly leather-bound journal from an aunt rarely seen, some(prenominal) lie on a lower floor my bed in my dorm room, on with my twenty-some other nearly-forgotten friends. study has the ability to obligate our independence from England, to interpret data that leads to the find of nuclear fission, and to transmit a heartfelt love capacity to a pass overseas. But sometimes most importantly, paper simply listens.If you regard to get a full essay, edict it on our website:

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