More journal stuff.
I seriously doubt that anyone, right now, is interested in reading these posts.
But I'm doing it anyway....
My future self will probably enjoy reading these posts and maybe (hopefully) other future people will be interested as well.
Note: Blue is what was printed in the journal and green is what I wrote (probably back in 1996)
This page is entitled Dreams and Wishes. There's not much prompting from the journal creators. I guess was just supposed to pour my heart out. AND that, I did. I filled in every line.
I think my main dream as a child and teenager was about having a boyfriend. I wanted to have one person who loved me more than anyone else in the world.
Due to the fact that no decent guy ever asked me out until 12th grade, I didn't feel very optimistic about that dream coming true.
Wait. I don't want there to be any misconceptions about indecent guys asking me out. One guy who was neither decent or indecent hinted about going out, but he never had the guts to directly ask me out. I guess his indirectness more than his creepiness made him somewhat indecent.
I'm not sure who I was talking about there. The first name that comes to my head is Scott. I remember exchanging notes with him in the beginning of 12th grade, and I also remember getting the idea that he liked me. But I can't remember if he did the hinting thing. I might have been referring to someone else.
Besides those love dreams I had dreams of success. I wanted my books to be published. I always thought I would have tons of career luck but no luck in love.
Seeing that I have written for ten years with just one damn poem and one damn essay published in insignificant magazines, and that I have been dating one guy for a year and a half, I can guess I predicted wrong.
I'm thinking it was a bit silly of me to give up on my writing career that soon. Well, I didn't really give up. I made a few more tries between 1996-2000; then tried two or three times since then. But I guess at that later stage, despite having some fantasies of success, I mostly had doubt.
And funny that I thought I was successful with love after being with someone for only a year and a half! People in newborn relationships can be pretty damn idealistic and naive.
Would I trade Tim in for a publisher's phone call? No, definitely not.
The only real reason I'm interested in having my books published now is for the money. I realized a few weeks ago that I deeply love some of my own books If I am the only one to love my books, so be it. I created something I like.
A) Despite not getting published, I was not the only one who loved my books. Well, maybe love is too strong of a word. But I do think there have been people who have at least LIKED my books.
B) Whenever I have relapses of wanting to be a successful writer, money still IS my main drive. It's much more about being financially secure and independent than it is about fame. That being said, I also definitely have a need for people to read what I've written. Even if it's just two or three people. Hey, even one isn't so bad!
I want to be heard.
I want to be seen.
I want the characters I've created to be unpaused from that horrible stillness which comes from nobody reading about them anymore.
Now my dreams are to be a good teacher, be happily married to Tim, and to work with the orangutans in Borneo.
That was back when my obsession was apes/primates.
I didn't end up staying with teaching as a career but still do it via homeschooling.
I've been married for 19 years, so that dream worked out. It hasn't always been a happy marriage, but it has SOMETIMES been a happy marriage. I think that's all a realistic person can expect and hope for.