Weirdo

Journal Entry 24 of 52

I don't know what to write in this journal anymore. I mean, I can doodle, write nonsense poems, words just scribbled ineligibly across the page, but after all that's happened, it might just be too nostalgic for the future me to simply laugh about.

I believe that things are getting better; the tarot cards appeared to be wrong. Life feels easier nowadays; me not having to worry, and Henrietta now thinks of me as a friend, I mean, I seem to have lost all of my bad luck and clumsiness when I started hanging out with her.

After I reread my journal entry from the other day, I was so stressed I wasn't even thinking straight! I believed in those silly tarot cards! I suppose stress can do that, especially my sense of dilemma.

I mean, I can just ignore that note, right? No one else really knows about it, so can't I just forget about it?
Either that, or I'll have to really solve this stupid mystery.

I guess I can't really help but solve it. It's like making a sandwich but forgetting the bread. Plus, who reads a mystery book just to find out it has no mystery?!

I'm pretty sure I've written this whole situation before, but like I said, I've run out of things to write about in here.

As I look back again, I can see how much I've matured this past year.
No more silly remarks, no more crazy thoughts. It's sorta like reading a book at the end of series and loving how much the characters have gone through, how they've devolped throughout the series.

Maybe I'll publish this diary once I get to the last page, maybe.

Well, I'm done ranting. I had no ideas, and now I have some, so I'll write again soon. Plus, I need to figure out who wrote that letter. Just for closure, for something I could easily forget, but I will remember and still wonder in the future who wrote it, so I suppose its easier to figure out now rather than much later. See you soon.