Day 1

Today I noticed...

Me. I noticed who I was and how I've grown and how I need to grow. I am kind. I am deeply empathetic. I am bubbly. I am excited to live and to encourage.

Unfortunately, I am weak and desperate for attention.I am wandering and confused. I am stubborn and standoffish.

I am me and today I noticed that I love myself, but hate my weakness.

Would it be too cliche to say my weakness makes me "me"? If that's true where then do we draw the line? What weaknesses are worthy of adoration and which are distasteful? Is too much introspection a weakness?

Is it possible to accept ourselves too much? And what would that look like? If perfection is impossible, should I strive for it?

Wild.

I am excited to see who I will become. Weaknesses and strengths.

Day 2

Today I noticed...

My room. My room with it's chaotic human brushstrokes. It's personality. Everything neat with shelves of contained chaos.

The creases and folds in my bed spoke of a halfhearted attempt to remake it.

When I think of rooms I imagine a bird creating it's own cage. Gathering twigs and metals. Placing leaves and trash in patterns we can't understand.

Four walls. A temperate square. What makes it a home? Or a room? A life was lived here. And in a short time all its' contained chaos will be gone. A few scars revealed through scraps and scratches will be my signature on this place.

What is it that drives us to shout, "I was here. I am me."

Day 3

Today I noticed...

My Sunburn.

I noticed how it makes my skin crease and pucker. And how it feels as if it's slowly cracking away. I noticed my subconscious Imaginings telling me I had stolen a bit of the sun and this was my punishment.

I noticed how tired I am. How it feels as if my body is attached to multiple anchors that want me to stop on the proverbial seas of life.

Beneath the rather opaque wash of red I noticed slight brown dots peeking through.

Perhaps this is all in my head but, I notice light more. AS if I had marked the sun as my sworn nemesis and thus I watch for her everywhere.

I notice the gentle concern from my father, and my mother's careful indifference.

I notice all these things but forgot to notice the hours slipping away and the bottle of sunscreen in my bag.

Day 4

Today I noticed...

The carpet beneath me. I noticed how it (confusingly) is both coarse and soft at the same time. I noticed how it seems as if it lifts in the corners of the room. Seemingly cause by years of people walking a path with oily feet. I noticed that I never want to write the phrase "oily feet" again. I noticed how finely intertwined each strand of fabric is.

Noticing the quality of the carpet brought my mind to the past. I find it funny that a hundred years ago our average carpets and rugs would only be owned by the richest peoples. If I were to time travel could I be a well to do craftsmen (woman) with my rugs and carpets?

I guess if I went back far enough I could just bring some seasonings or some lighters. Then I could sell the lighters as magic to people... then be burnt at the stake for witchcraft. Unless! I could blackmail some Lords and Ladies.

Which then brings into question; could I effectively communicate? Would my accent and speech patterns be too different? How long would it take me to fit in?

Day 5

Today I noticed...

How quickly a day can swing from good to bad and back to good again. I hesitate to write this entry because I promised myself I would attempt to share my entries with people. And the hermit in me strongly resists the idea of sharing my true feelings. Especially in this unedited, messy raw way.

Today started with a slow rise of productivity, I've noticed that recently I am more dedicated to my writing and my art.

After the warm feeling of my quasi productive day, I spent some time with a good friend, laughing at nothing in particular.

Unfortunately, later, I was dismissed by an object of my teenage obsessive infatuation. Somehow ab indirect brushoff hurts more than a direct one. As if it says "You're not worth my time."

Afterwards my heart was elated by the news of a small addition to our family, currently the size of a poppy seed.

Day 6

Today I noticed...

How good it feels to take a nap. I noticed how relaxed and refreshed I felt. I noticed how my body felt heavy and I noticed I wished to be tired again just so I could nap again.

I noticed that napping is a sort of escapism for me. All my wants and needs are forgotten in the haze of half formed dreams.

I noticed how parched I was. As if I had my mouth open and the wind blowing in. I noticed the crusted trail of drool from said open mouth.

I noticed I felt tired again an hour later. I then noticed how my parched throat kept feeling scratchy no matter how much I drank. I noticed I had the chills and hot flashes.

In conclusion; I noticed that I am getting sick. I noticed that I don't like it.

Day 7

Today I noticed...

The number of unfinished ten day journal challenge projects. For the second time I hesitate to write an entry, this time out of fear I will offend my fellow students. But this comes from a place in my heart that has no ill-will. It breaks my heart to know that there are people out there who believe their voice isn't enough. That their thoughts aren't bold, or thought-provoking, or whatever enough. I want more than anything to sit down with each of my fellow writers and convince them that their voice is worth listening to.

I want them to know that I have been there before. Stuck in a seemingly permanent loop of excitedly starting a project to dejectedly ending it. It hurts, the failure stings in your chest. I want more than anything for them to find the strength in themselves to create what they want to create. I want them to love themselves enough to know that the commitments they make to themselves are important.

Mostly, I am ashamed with myself for not saying anything. I could take the time to write a heartfelt comment beneath all of their started projects. Unfortunately, a noxious mix of social anxiety, general cowardice, and laziness holds me back. But really... What could I say?

Day 8

Today I noticed...

The trees lit by my street lamps. The street lamps were relatively short and crafted in such a way to give you a nostalgic feeling, but the lights they cast was too bright to be from any time but the present. There was no moon or stars to back light the perfectly groomed trees, only the shockingly intense street lights. If I were to have that intense blue light shone on my face, I would scurry away. But the trees (as the always are) were standing proud in their natural beauty.

The intense shadows and highlights made it seem as if the leaves had been painted. Or perhaps a moment of whimsy made me feel that way. I wondered what lay deeper in the shadows of the trees and if I could ever reach them. The cloudy night sky framed the beautiful picture of modern invention and timeless nature in an eerie purple gray.

It did cross my mind to try and picture what that tree would to try and picture what that tree would be surrounded by if man hadn't intervened, would it even be here? Would it be swamps and rivers that surrounded it? Hills and plains? The options were too much to fathom.

Day 9

Today I noticed...

My father's weary face. I noticed his smile lines that were pulling done. The lines highlighted his hidden frown. I noticed that his lips that are usually up turned softly in a "I know something you don't" smile were completely flat. It has been a year since he's brought in any income, and I notice how much this hurts him.

I noticed how his eyes flick away in hurt when my mother (who is normally the least anxious person I know) expresses concern about out living situation. I want more than anything to comfort him. But a large part of me is upset and anxious too. I notice how every week a pattern emerges. My dad is dedicated to finding a job, gets word of one, then is disappointed.

I notice that men are typically more upset when they think they fail to provide or secure there family. I wonder if this is true of if I'm just projecting my bias.

I notice that lately my family has turned to glib humor about our precarious situation. Jokes about turning to prostitution or buying a tent and living in the woods are shared over meals. They laugh, then get quiet, realizing the joke could soon be a reality.

I notice that I feel guilty and selfish for not doing more. I often find myself offering o do as many chores and cook as many meals as possible. It's something small but it helps me. I notice that sometimes I move from task to task almost manically, and sometimes I just lay, frozen in fear.

I notice that there is hope, and we have a support system who will take us in. And I notice that we will most likely be okay. My fears are most likely just snowballed anxiety. But I can't help but worry about my dad's weary face.

Sabrina Skipper

2

6