Dear Diary,
2/24/25
I worked 8 hours today at a job entirely unrelated to my writing. But, during my lunch break, I was thinking of Perpetual Girlhood, and found a scrap of paper on which to write my ideas.
Since I am working more now, I have less time to write. But I need to work in order to live and, thus, in order to write–even if there is only a small amount of time left for such a task.
So, I thought, Why not write a daily diary entry on my blog? It seemed–and still seems–like a solid idea in which nothing could go wrong. In fact, it would be a good way to record snippets of my life for later perusal. It would also guarantee I’d be writing on a daily basis–no matter how short the content–since finding time to write has been harder as of late.
When I made it home today, though, I just couldn’t find the energy to convert my diary from a concept to a physical entity. (Well, as physical as a digital format can be.) So, hours went by, and I created nothing.
I went on a walk, cooked dinner, and danced in the kitchen. But I didn’t open my laptop until it was nearing time for me to go to bed. (I should be in bed now, but I am writing this.)
So, I got online, and saw that someone had left a generous donation for the maintenance and betterment of Perpetual Girlhood. I was shocked and touched and, finally, re-inspired. My writing is worth something. It’s easy to forget that people other than myself read my work. Most times I feel like I am the only person in the world seeing my words on a screen. But that’s not true.
So, while this is a ramble, it is also the start of something new. On this page, I plan to add a new entry every day that I possibly can. The entries will most likely be brief, but they will be an honest glimpse into the life of an ordinary girl. ♡
2/25/25
It was another 8-hour work day, but my morning commute was divine. Everything was brown. So brown. Fields after fields of dirt and the remains of last year’s corn stalks. It was such a barren landscape. Miles of desolation. All the snow had melted yesterday. After weeks of seeing a white layer covering everything, the fields now looked as if a fire had swept through and eaten everything of vibrancy.
But, this morning, it was so brown. And so beautiful.
The sun was hitting everything in such a way that the dull brown colors had acquired their own tone of gold. And, with living in a rural area, there were few houses to break up the landscape. It’s just brown field after brown field after brown field. But it was glorious.
It puts summertime greens to shame in the sense that it is not the only beautiful season, no matter what June, July, and August try to make us think. There is not one kind of beauty. Everyone has their own opinion, certainly, but I believe if you truly love nature, in and of itself, you would find beauty outside every single day, no matter the time or location. You’d find beauty because of how changing nature is, how impermanent.
Most people overlook mundane beauty–not that nature could ever be considered mundane–and I don’t want to be “most people” in this situation.
It is also kind of funny because my whole outfit–my sweater, my coat–was made of different shades of brown. I mean, my skirt was black, but that is (kind of) the absence of color. So, if we don’t count my skirt, the entirety of me was covered in shades of brown.
Even though I was making these observations in a car made by the modern hand of man, I truly felt to be one with the landscape I was driving through. This sense of connectedness existed even though I was not walking through the fields or talking to a leafless tree. It was just a mindset in which I couldn’t help remembering that we are made of the same stuff. And I know we are, biologically, but this was different.
It was like I woke up this morning, and the world woke up with me. We were both one and the same.
I don’t know. Maybe that feeling can only last for a day or more. Or maybe only ten minutes. Maybe it must come and go in spurts, so my appreciation is never dulled. But I want that feeling to revisit me forever.
2/26/25
Today was very similar to the past two days, minus the dancing and extreme feelings of interconnectedness.
My late afternoon and evening, after I returned home, was spent entirely with people I care about. It was nothing more than a home-cooked meal and a game of Balderdash (it was my first time playing, but I won), but it is this kind of evening that we should all implement more of in our lives.
Simple pleasures amongst the company of other human beings will always bring calmness and contentment.
2/27/25
It’s his birthday tomorrow, so I made a cheesecake today. (It’s better when it can set up in the fridge overnight.)
I baked it in a dish that belonged to my grandmother. I think they look beautiful together.
2/28/25
We ate at a semi-fancy restaurant tonight. The building has been around since 1762. Because of its many centuries served as a fort, trading post, tavern, and inn, the building is said to be haunted.
I don’t believe in ghosts, but their food is wonderful.
After dinner, we ate the cheesecake drizzled with chocolate sauce at his house. A nice, calm celebration between two.
3/1/25
Game night with some family. I ate too many brownies to try and make up for the absence of his arms around me.
3/2/25
Stuff went on. Family, friends, food. Not good or bad. I just can’t psych myself up to write about it.
Tomorrow, I will pose as a creative goddess again.
3/4/25
How quickly inspiration dwindles. The days feel the same, and hot tea becomes the only form of comfort. Something to look forward to when arriving home. Something to help decompress.
It is hard to be creative when many of your daylight hours are spent catering to the needs of others. There becomes little time for introspection, rumination.
Maybe the coming warm weather will change things. The days will be longer and feel warmer, and I’ll be more content with who I am and where I am in life.
3/6/25
Nothing new these past two days. However, after rereading my last entry, I must add that “catering to the needs of others” is not the most draining thing. It is probably tied with small talk and fake smiles.
It’s not at all that the people I am in contact with aren’t genuinely kind people. It’s simply that I don’t have the sort of relationship with them that makes conversation a comfortable thing. But I must smile and contribute something in the form of spoken words because, in the end, I still care about making a good impression.
If we could all just go about our business as usual without feeling pressured to make friendly but shallow remarks, we’d all be better off. We’d be less stressed and have more time for the important things.
3/9/25
It has been a good couple of days. I’ve had a lot of time spent with him.
My lower back was hurting yesterday from two consecutive days standing stagnantly, 7 hours each day. But I feel much better now.
It is mid-afternoon as I write, and we will go on a walk soon. There is a heavy breeze and the air is cold, but the sun is shining. We are blessed with scattered Botticelli clouds
3/11/25
It was a beautiful day. He and I walked two miles in the sunshine and did yard work after I returned home.
(And my mother made a delicious ham pot pie, though, I must admit, I could not psych myself up to eat the ham itself.)
As the sun fell, we sat on his little, front porch and listed to the sound of the neighborhood taking full advantage of this unnaturally warm, March day. The sound of the children’s joyful yelling was far enough away to be cozy rather than grating.
Our conversation was warm, and I could not get close enough to him.
It is strange how a nice day can make everything–even love–more precious than it had been the day before. Everything–the mountains, the grass, the air, him–glowed with an inner light. It was something more than just the reflection of the sun; it was a true appearance of the strongest form of life.
3/12/25
I cried today, but I don’t know why.
For all that I felt, I might have been told the sun would never rise again and it’d be the last day I’d ever feel loved.
3/15/25
It has been a busy couple of days, a busy week. I feel like I’ve barely been home.
It is Saturday, and this afternoon is the first I’ve been able to relax. It is still strange how stillness is the best time for creativity. I now have a new idea for a short story about the movement of time.
3/17/25
Sick but still working. Nevertheless, my spirits are high. I am just lacking the time to express my creativity in the form of written word.
3/23/25
I think this diary has become a place for me to log all of my excuses as to why I have not been creative or active on this blog.
It is not a good habit, but I am going to do it again today anyways.
In my defense, I am working a lot at a job that is still fairly new to me. In addition, I have been sick all week. I am only just now getting back to normal. Also, he was gone for two days.
The creativity simply wasn’t flowing. It was nonexistent.
Good news, however: I have written and posted to Perpetual Girlhood today.
I’m starting to think there is no such thing as being “too sappy,” is brief but it is an honest reflection on who I have seen myself becoming and who I want to be. It is a piece of light that coincides perfectly with the spring equinox. ♡
3/34/25
I was away from home today and expected to have some downtime of which I would fill with reading. So, I brought a newly acquired book that I’ve been excited to read, The Devil and Miss Prym, part of Paulo Coelho’s And on the Seventh Day three-book series.
But, to my great disappointment. The Devil and Miss Prym is the last book in the series. The author’s note revealed this to me, though, when I had previously sought information on the novels’ chronology, the internet said you could read them in any order. Which, I guess, is always true of any book series, but I wanted to obey Coelho and read them correctly.
So, I sat with nothing to occupy my mind.
For a while, I was silent with my thoughts, but you can only stare into space–in a public place–for so long without drawing suspicion or concern.
In this way, and in this moment, I figured I could take to poetry: the memorization and recitation of my favorite piece, as well as the composition of my own. (Reciting lengthy poems is a cool party trick, in my opinion.)
But, without reading or writing, I wondered: how else can a person be creative in a time like this where this is little to no medium with which to express themselves?
3/26/25
The day started with such a beautiful morning. It made me sad to be inside most of the day, even if it was only 40 degrees. I convinced myself, during my short commute, that if I were able to spend as little as one interrupted hour outside, I would not feel the cold. I would be warmed by a peace and love from within my heart, extended towards all of earth, the dirt, the mountains, the toads.
It also made me realize, that if I knew when my last day of life was going to be, I’d spend the entirety of it out of doors.
It was a glorious morning, lit from a bit of heaven shining through a hole in the sky.
3/28/25
It has been a wonderful day: making a friend, a free parfait, a bit of time spent outside, being called pretty by someone I barely know, and dinner with him.
I am glad each day is different. It makes the joy of today even stronger. I hope to always remember and savor times like these.
3/30/25
Why does she have to have his “baggage?”
3/31/35
I know there are plenty of people who talk about me–in not so good ways–but no one has directly confronted me. Thus, I must strive to not let them bother me.
No matter how harshly they judge my decisions, it is still my life–my one and only. I can only do what brings me joy and a fervor for more days on this earth.
4/4/25
Thought: It is strange how, each year, white and pink flowering trees astound us all with their beauty. It is as if, from one year to the next, we forget their existence. In any season but spring, if we were to see a five-year-old draw a tree with pink leaves, we’d think it looked make-believe. How quickly we forget that the colors of nature are more than just greens and browns.
Past few days: work, not feeling well, dinner with friends and family.
Today: feeling good, productive day at home, dinner with him, walk to an ice cream shop after, and sitting down on a bench in historic downtown. ♡