Today went well, you would've been proud of me. I've been smiling a lot and acually meaning it. My doom and gloom outlook on life has gone back down to it's batcave to lurk and sulk for a while.

I wore my high shoes. I love them greatly, but I feel self-concious wearing them because I feel so tall. No one commented on my increase in height, which made me happy.

The yearbooks are here again. This year they are huge hunking things with pages of colored, laminated pictures. We had to redo our pictures a few months ago though and they don't look very wonderful. But at least no one (except the pretty seniors in their pretty clothes) looks good, which makes me look better. I have several pictures in the book and two quotes. Things I'd forgotten I'd said. Everyone sounds dumb in a yearbook, Diary, because having a yearbook person come up to you and starting an interrogation is scary. It's all fake though anyway. I only like yearbooks for the signatures. I love reading and writing signatures. Especially three years later when you don't know the person who you were back then anymore.

Diary, you wouldn't understand this, but I'm afraid of life. You wouldn't undestand because you're not a living thing. You're not even aritificial intelligence. You're just there. I'm afraid of life because it's so beautfil, and there's so much unknown in it, and it plays tricks on you. I love life though, life is a gift you recieve as soon as you're born until you die. It's yours and though it's true it can be taken away, it will always be yours...or rather mine, because you're not alive.