Was Anybody Ever Out There?

May 14, 1998  Thursday

Page 282 was as far as my first journal, Is Anybody Out There?, ever got.  In a brash, necessary move at my keyboard on year ago, I put to sleep my first sustained writing project.  Since my sophomore high school year, IAOT? had been the keeper of a sometimes-detailed, sometimes-shoddy record of my daily life.  It ended at the perfect time, and I’m glad I did it, but I still treasure the words it holds.  In it I can see plainly how much I grew during its lifespan.  Its campy first pages are a stark contrast to its final closing passages.  Through that pile of paper I can see clearly and chart how I grew as a person and a writer.  I am proud of the way it accurately described and interpreted many people.  I am always proud that I stayed true to myself, always writing down as close to the facts as I could understand them to be.  Sometimes corny, sometimes nothing, sometimes happy and sometimes gritty, it was always me.

And I continue, ever closer to the Edge.

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