January 7, 1975 [cont’d.]
Why is it that people only learn with pain and suffering? I think the more one suffers himself, the more he becomes aware of the suffering of others. I cry sometimes, hysterically I mean, because I see how cruel and insensitive some people can be. They can’t see how they slowly kill each [other]. How they destroy each other without a thought. I love people so much and sometimes I can’t stand to hear the news on TV. If only people would look to the good they could do. Oh God there capable of such kindness and compassion. This crumby society, built of stone. In an environment like this how can people help but being fakes and plastic. What they built slowly destroys them. Oh I don’t know! I’m so damn confused! I wish I could write down what I feel but its literally so impossible. I want to write so much. I love English and reading. God I so much want to be a writer. But I get so discouraged. I really haven’t got the ability. I have an idea for a book. That’s why I’m writing this. It hasn’t taken form yet though. And I don’t intend to write it till I’m ready I guess. I’ll know when that will be. Well, intill tomorrow. For another thrilling day. What a joke!
[unedited journal, first pg., 10th grade, age 15]