Oh by gosh by golly

When I let Mr. Tong down, I let the whole word down, is how I see it. If I disappoint him in my playing, I feel like a completely horrible person. He doesn't expect me to be good or anything, but he can usually count on me to practice a great deal and try my hardest. He claims me to be his only student who actually loves the cello. And now, today, I have truly let him down. Oh, goodness. The sadness is everlasting, I am pretty sure.

Oh, Abby, your sister will be fine. She was happy when I spoke with her?

I love moments when you have everything in the world figured out and you know that absolutely nothing can bring you down. I always want to sing and never, ever stop smiling. But, nope. I always come crashing back down.

Oh, yes, forts and soup. I am PUMPED. There is no way they can say no now that they have seen how upset I get when being deprived the lovliness of the Braughton household.

Ah, I expected to get on today and see a horrific new picture. Changing it weekly would be slightly confusing...maybe bi-weekly? As you said, the possibilities...

Oh, my clean Abby. My heart shines with pride.

At least you have a journal, which should delay the emotional explosion that is sure to come if you keep everything locked inside. No one would ever, ever judge you, Abby, I am pretty sure that that would be impossible. And waiting does not always work. It can become pretty annoying.

Your busy head provides insight to the mind of geniuses, truly. And I am pretty sure I spelled "geniuses" wrong, which is pretty funny, when you think about it. If it were clear, you wouldn't get anything accomplished, I believe.

As she turned the busy street corner back in the original direction, the Ragpicker gazed up and smiled.
"Ah," she said slowly, "I knew you would return."
"I knew you knew I would return. There was too much left unspoken between us. You know that I need closure," the Ricketmaster said, tears welling up in her eyes. The Ticketmaster jerked her dirty head; the sight of anyone crying made her insides cringe from her own inability to produce tender emotion. She stood like that, her head turned off to the side, until the Ticketmaster's name was unintentionally produced from her lips, at which both women jumped.

I have a horrible habit of comparing myself to others. It truly is horrible. Who wants to always feel inferior to different people? You need to let yourself get over this, really. It may now push you to do better, but it could eventually lead in the opposite direction.

Oh, goodness, school. I don't know what I am doing right now. How about going straight to bed?

Good-bye.