Book 1, "A Distant Star"

I have mixed feelings when people confront me regarding my emotions sometimes. It often happens that someone will ask me if I'm doing alright, intending to offer their presence to console me. I really appreciate it when they do that, it comforts me, lets me know that they care enough to ask and present the opportunity for me to open up. Usually however, I'm doing just fine and their concern has me second guess my emotional state. Sometimes the first thing I think to say is to say, "No, I'm not doing alright." I guess that comes from a very real aspect of my personality that involves me appreciating attention. Even if there's nothing immediately bothering me, I'll want to say that. Usually there is something I could complain about, and sometimes I do. When I do, if I was fine before, my mood deteriorates.

Actually, it seems like whenever someone asks me that question my mood deteriorates. It is true that when I'm actually feeling down someone extending this kindness is often really appreciated. If I confide in them, I usually come out better, depending on how they respond of course.

Sometimes I'll be okay and someone will ask the question. I'll press the issue that I'm doing fine, but they usually don't believe me. They keep at trying to fix me, which makes me further question how I'm actually doing. Rarely do I decide that I actually am alright, and even rarer can I convince them that I am indeed doing just fine.

I don't want to feel like I'm seeking out attention wherever I can get it. I don't think that's who I am. It worries me that I want to tell people something is wrong when they give me the opportunity. Maybe something is, and I just can't communicate whatever it is to others, let alone myself. It's this kind of thinking that further depresses me. My life is great, I shouldn't be sad. I'm not usually sad, but people expecting me to be, sometimes makes me so. I appreciate the notion though, however it affects me.

I'm sorry if none of this makes sense. It doesn't really have much connection to the picture from my journal. I'm not sad, but I feel like I'm steering a boat through fickle water. It's hard to stay on course.

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     I would go to a distant star and back just to prove you're more Beautiful.

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Another picture drawn by Past Justin while crushing on the texting girl. The cardboard in the top right is actually covering a few phone numbers. I remember that something happened in our conversation which made me fearful of losing her number. I scribbled it down onto this drawing so that I would have it in a safe place. Somewhere I hopefully wouldn't lose it. I still have it, although I don't think I ever needed to revert to the written numbers to contact her. There are other phone numbers here too, but I can't remember for the life of me whose they are. I feel like the longer I don't call the numbers, the greater a chance they will remain a mystery forever.