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By Root 300 0

She hasn’t been a part of my life in so long. I don’t even remember what she looks like. Would I even recognize her if I saw her? Do people have connections like that? Would my soul recognize hers? I don’t know. I hope I get the chance to find out one day. Sometimes I dream about her. They are fuzzy, hazy dreams; I don’t even remember them that well when I wake up, I just know she was in them. My last memory is of her forgetting to kiss me good-bye that morning. I was mad because I asked her the night before to kiss me good-bye before she went to work. She forgets. When I was walking around the track that Nancy has set up in the backyard to exercise with, I thought about her so much I started to cry.

MARCH 11, 2003

Instead of the clinic that I mentioned setting up before, I think it would be more like housing instead. Maybe on a ranch with horses and all sorts of other animals. We could find jobs for everyone that needed one around the ranch and then they wouldn’t be homeless anymore. I don’t know that much about running a ranch like that, but I intend to learn. Maybe one day it would be a big community of people. I really want a ranch one day with horses. I want to take in all the injured and unwanted animals. They would all have a place on the ranch. And in return those animals would give the people on the ranch a sense of worth.

APRIL 4, 2003

Dreams. Are dreams real or are they made up from memories and things that happen during the day? I don’t really know. I hope they are just dreams. Things that will never really happen like that. I never really have nightmares, only once in a while. A few years ago I had a dream about my grandpa, Poppy. I dreamed he was in his truck [he was a truck driver] and he had a heart attack and tried to cross the road and got ran over. That’s why I hope dreams are just dreams and not real. Sometimes I want to stay in my dreams when she [my mom] is in them. Just hold on to them for a little bit longer to be with her again if only it’s for a few minutes, but I always wake up. Some of my dreams are weird, like in one I’m trying to open my eyes but I can’t, but that’s when I know I’m dreaming.

MAY 3, 2003

I felt lonely all day today. I don’t understand why I feel like this sometimes. I mean it’s not like I’m alone. I have my family and they are great. I don’t really know why I feel like this. I just want a chance to do things myself. Lead a life that I choose not this life that I have no say in what happens. No real control. What do I want? Maybe to feel a little more grown up. I feel sometimes like I’m still the same age as when IT happened. I hate this feeling. I want to grow up. But how do I do that here? Who would I be if I weren’t here? Sometimes I think I would be a totally different person because being here has changed me. I might have always followed in someone else’s footsteps. Always trying to get people to like me. Always wanting nobody to be mad at me. Oh who am I kidding, I’m still that same person. Well maybe not as much as before. I have changed. I know now I would not follow the leader of the pack blindly, I would not do drugs or break the law. I wish I had better instincts, though.

JUNE 6, 2003

Reading is an escape for me. I ask myself, what am I escaping from? I don’t know, I just … maybe I am escaping myself. I’m not happy or comfortable with myself. When I’m reading I can lose myself, maybe even become like the beautiful women I read about. Strong, independent women that do things by themselves. I should be taking control of my body and getting strong and healthy; I put on so much weight from the babies, my body has changed so much. I just can’t seem to get motivated. I just can’t say no to food! She [Nancy] is always bringing in so much candy and, yes, I love it, but it does not help my weight. I just can’t say no to her [Nancy]. Maybe one day when I’m finally ready to take control of myself I will.

AUGUST 11, 2003

My cat Blackjack died on this day; I wrote this in memorial to him.

Why do we allow ourselves to love when we know for a fact that, that soul