Why does it seem like everyone else has a purpose? It's like everyone but me has some kind of talent, or even some problem that they're working through. I know that I should be thankfull for what I have. I have a roof over my head, food on my table, and a comfortable bed to sleep in every night. I have two parents who would do anything for me and a brother to play with me and keep me company when I am lonely. I have countless friends who I can talk to and who trust me with their problems and who depend on my advice, yet I feel like my life is one boring pattern. I wake up, go to school, deal with everyone's problems, and then wonder the streets of London, looking for any sign of a reason for being alive. Then, I go home, eat supper, listen to my parents talk about how good my brother is at ABSOLUTELY EVERYTHING, then pour my heart into this journal, writing down the same thoughts every day. Why am I here? What is my purpose? Why do I literally wonder around London for an hour every day, contemplating questions that I will never answer? Why do I keep writing in a journal that will soon be full of pages, all containing my simular enquiries and thoughts? All of these questions have the same answer. I donn't know. I will never be able to use words strong enough to express how much I long for the answers to every question that I ask myself every single day while walking along crouded streets and while writing in this book of confused teenager's thoughts. However, as I have no way of answering any of these questions, and it is very late at night, I think I will put down my pencil and try to go to sleep so that I can repeat the cycle of my daily events tomorrow.
N/a I will try to update this story as much as possible but I can't give a specific time. Also please tell me about spelling grammar mistakes.
YOU ARE READING
Muggle Diaries (a Harry Potter Fan Fiction)
FanfictionAlia Johnson thinks she is a normal girl without a purpose. However, she will learn otherwise when she follows Professor Mc.Gonaggle to Hogwarts.
