I do not want to write a journal. This is the most boring thing in the word. But you say that we must. Therefore I will.
Yes, I know. You're going to be getting hundreds of journals from your new students whom you've never seen or met. But can't you just wait to meet us before you give us an assignment?
No matter. I suppose that this is clever, to ask us to write daily about ourselves during the summer. That way, you won't have to ask us what our names are (because you did ask us to enclose a picture), or ask us about ourselves, or ask how our summer was.
BUT IS A WRITING CHECKLIST NECESSARY?
It says that we should start every journal with a question. So here's mine:
WHAT IS LOVE? Baby don't hurt me, don't hurt me, no mo--
Okay, so I may not be the best at journaling. But...
If everything has a color, then what is the color of nothing?
We only know the things that are. The things that exist. The things that we can see. What about the things that aren't? The things that don't exist? The things we can't see?
Strange things to think about. But I think about them all the time.
Humans forbid me to think like that, to think like myself. They always expect me to follow the normal pattern of everyday life. They want me to be human.
But I'm not. And I simply cannot be. You cannot train a cat to be a dog. You cannot train a fish to be a bird. You cannot train me to be human.
Wait, oh, I must be confusing you, Ms. Ingrim. You don't know me at all. So let me start with some basic facts:
First fact: My name is Mollie McQuire.
Second fact: I am a teenaged girl who lives in the North of our world.
Third fact: I am a half-blooded angel.
I suppose that maybe I should give you the whole story...