I'm just an animal looking for a home

Journal Entry


Note:  The only changes to this entry are minor corrections to grammar, punctuation, formatting, and spelling.  I’ve also removed any last names which appeared, except in the case of teachers.

I’m not sure what I’m supposed to write tonight.  For the past few days I’ve had the desire to go up to my room, listen to the Pixies, and write.  So I’m doing it.  I’m not quite sure where this is going, so bear with me.

I’ve spoken to Keri a few times since I’ve been in Maine.  Things are still great between us — the more I talk to her, the more of her subtleties I discover and appreciate.  I don’t know where things are headed for us, but it’s a good, happy, healthy relationship, and that’s refreshing.  No relationship is ideal, but who cares?  I have no complaints.  I’m supposed to talk to her later tonight, so that’ll be good.

There hasn’t been any snow on the ground yet, which is disappointing to me.  Hopefully it’ll snow before I leave.  I love the snow.

The family didn’t all get together for Christmas — just me, Matt, mom, and dad.  Despite the poor turnout, the holiday was not without conflict.  Nothing extreme at all, but it always bothers me when my parents fight.  They never fight for too long, but it isn’t pleasant to listen to.  I suppose I am overly sensitive to it — lord knows I’ve witnessed far worse.  I also hate it when I see myself start to act as they do.  It happens only when I’m around the family, and it doesn’t happen too frequently, but it disturbs me nevertheless.  I’d like to think I’m above such things.  I guess not, though.

There’s a picture in my bedroom (not placed here by me) of Scarlett and I at prom in high school.  It’s a little strange to look at it.  Scarlett seems so happy to be with me.  It always struck me as strange that Scarlett adored me as she did.  I know that sounds like a case of low self-esteem, but it really isn’t.  I’m not saying that I couldn’t possibly merit adoration, just that I don’t see how Scarlett saw through my exterior and noticed some of the good things inside.

That’s a weird thing to write about.  I’m going to call Keri.

Bye bye.


Author: mitcharf

vegan, curmudgeon, animal lover, feminist, agnostic, cat whisperer, bookworm, hermit, Red Sox fan, Cthulhu enthusiast, softball player, man-about-town

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