BoysPlantGraves
Graves will Grow Flowers
Faiths February journal entry
Dear Journal,
To have Faith is to have hope, a feeling of serenity and calmness that washes over you as you see a positive outcome in your future though your current unlucky situation.
I hope my sisters okay after finding out her bad grade; Ihope that we’ll see Grandma this weekend. It’s used each day by any individual; only in some is it in a situation where it is need.
I hope my sister will be okay in Iraq, I hope Grandma will survive to the weekend. As humans we use the word hope to mask a type of plea that we have little or much faith in.
And though I own this title, Faith. I have little of it.
As a girl named Faith you’d think I’d be what one would call the Holy Grail, but no sir. I am but another mistake, a patch of dead grass on our otherwise living lawn. If you do not believe such a girl as myself when I state this allow me to explain myself and my reasons behind these words I write within the pages of this leather coated journal.
I was born on the date April 1, of the year 1997 otherwise known as April fool’s day. But do not be fooled I am no jokester don’t allow my birth date to trick you into such fantasies.
My initials are F. P. W, Faith Penny Willems-no not Williams but Willems. My brown chestnut hair hangs at my shoulders and barely skims them when I step, I have dull hazel eyes that many people would call lifeless as they hide behind my burgundy frames that I am unable to live without. My attire usually consists of cardigans and buttons ups, a formal but casual approach that would make me come off as a year or two older then my real age.
Dress to impress, not to caress. An easy thing to live by when no one takes much interest in you in the first place, I’m pretty average no one that a person would fight over. And in most people’s statements I’m spoken of as quiet and dull, no one that is even worth fighting for in the beginning.
Oh, if my memory serves me correctly in which it must I remember a lowerclassman stating something along the lines of, ‘She is as stiff and flat as a plank of wood.’ I remember that morning quite easily, he had said that around 10:30 that day and an ambulance appeared at an estimated time of 10:43. I had been sent home for a day afterwards, now if we were to speak of strange or rare occurrence that would be a prime state of affair to choose.
I’d say I’m quite patient, I’m not one to defend a stranger or a family member. I’d never raise my voice or speak out of line unless it was for me. I know it is quite selfish but that is merely what I am. Selfish. It could easily be the reason I’m so disliked other than my conservative personality.
But life is a game; it’s like a constant game of chess with the hooded death. If I were to fall off the edge of a high cliff, or to collide with a fast enough car these situations ending in me becoming a lifeless shell. I would lose.
Everyone is a mere pawn on my side of the board a single king rising above them all in a white hood as Death rules over a healthy kingdom coated in black. I’m incapable of creating friends in a fear that I may throw the game for one on a single day, as they can move freely taking some others along the way they move across the board of life. I’m unable, because death is constantly watching, constantly searching for a way to put me in checkmate.
So having no acquaintances to watch over in the end only helps me for my future. Of course, I’ll always make an acceptation for you. For my journal. Because just like any good friend you hold my secrets and dreams, you hold what little Faith I must have.
If I were to lose you, it'd be equal to losing the game.
Thank you for reading.
Dear Journal,
To have Faith is to have hope, a feeling of serenity and calmness that washes over you as you see a positive outcome in your future though your current unlucky situation.
I hope my sisters okay after finding out her bad grade; Ihope that we’ll see Grandma this weekend. It’s used each day by any individual; only in some is it in a situation where it is need.
I hope my sister will be okay in Iraq, I hope Grandma will survive to the weekend. As humans we use the word hope to mask a type of plea that we have little or much faith in.
And though I own this title, Faith. I have little of it.
As a girl named Faith you’d think I’d be what one would call the Holy Grail, but no sir. I am but another mistake, a patch of dead grass on our otherwise living lawn. If you do not believe such a girl as myself when I state this allow me to explain myself and my reasons behind these words I write within the pages of this leather coated journal.
I was born on the date April 1, of the year 1997 otherwise known as April fool’s day. But do not be fooled I am no jokester don’t allow my birth date to trick you into such fantasies.
My initials are F. P. W, Faith Penny Willems-no not Williams but Willems. My brown chestnut hair hangs at my shoulders and barely skims them when I step, I have dull hazel eyes that many people would call lifeless as they hide behind my burgundy frames that I am unable to live without. My attire usually consists of cardigans and buttons ups, a formal but casual approach that would make me come off as a year or two older then my real age.
Dress to impress, not to caress. An easy thing to live by when no one takes much interest in you in the first place, I’m pretty average no one that a person would fight over. And in most people’s statements I’m spoken of as quiet and dull, no one that is even worth fighting for in the beginning.
Oh, if my memory serves me correctly in which it must I remember a lowerclassman stating something along the lines of, ‘She is as stiff and flat as a plank of wood.’ I remember that morning quite easily, he had said that around 10:30 that day and an ambulance appeared at an estimated time of 10:43. I had been sent home for a day afterwards, now if we were to speak of strange or rare occurrence that would be a prime state of affair to choose.
I’d say I’m quite patient, I’m not one to defend a stranger or a family member. I’d never raise my voice or speak out of line unless it was for me. I know it is quite selfish but that is merely what I am. Selfish. It could easily be the reason I’m so disliked other than my conservative personality.
But life is a game; it’s like a constant game of chess with the hooded death. If I were to fall off the edge of a high cliff, or to collide with a fast enough car these situations ending in me becoming a lifeless shell. I would lose.
Everyone is a mere pawn on my side of the board a single king rising above them all in a white hood as Death rules over a healthy kingdom coated in black. I’m incapable of creating friends in a fear that I may throw the game for one on a single day, as they can move freely taking some others along the way they move across the board of life. I’m unable, because death is constantly watching, constantly searching for a way to put me in checkmate.
So having no acquaintances to watch over in the end only helps me for my future. Of course, I’ll always make an acceptation for you. For my journal. Because just like any good friend you hold my secrets and dreams, you hold what little Faith I must have.
If I were to lose you, it'd be equal to losing the game.
Thank you for reading.
