Life is not a series of gig lamps symmetrically arranged; life is a luminous halo, a semi-transparent envelope surrounding us from the beginning to the end.”

Virginia Woolf, Modern Fiction

To begin this entry, I will detail a bit about myself. I am 21 years of age, and I am not unordinary. I would not stand out in a crowd, and I do not intend to. There is nothing poor about having a place to fit in.

I love many things. My kitten, autumn, the sound of birds singing on a wire, my skirts and boots and lip balm. In almost every thing, there is a thing to love.

What else to say? I have always thought introductions quite boring. We should pretend we know each other already. I would like to detail my life here. Not to share the details of the lives of those I know, or the drama that may permit them, but the feelings and the thoughts that these items provoke from me. Unfortunately, I have an ever-failing memory, and as more time passes I lose the most important aspect of life: the ability to recall experiences. Feeling moments so deeply, with nowhere to chronologize them, is painful; I cannot force my thoughts out on to paper, so perhaps a keyboard will serve me better.

I will write again, all for myself, or for your eyes – another time.

For now,

G.D.