Have you ever read other people�s journals online, strangers journals, or even your friends, and thought that theirs were so interesting, artistic, passionate, creative (or anything that you wanted yours to be) more so than yours? I am a writer and writing is so important to me. For some people writing is something that allows them to vent, or it is a way to just be creative, it was those things to me. I think that my journal has become my trying to please people though�that�s sad. Well, it is sad and it isn�t sad at the same time. Do you get that? See, I want to write for me. It is something for me to do, not for someone else. When I write �for� people I withhold things, I manipulate things, and I try to please everyone. I can�t please everyone. That is not to say that I am writing things that I don�t want to, or that I am lying about how I think or feel when I write. That is not the case at all here. I hope that you get my point�I am conscious of the people who read this and therefore my online journal is not always the full me, it is a portion of me. That�s all that I am saying. I am more than my online journal. If any of my writing is more me, I would say that my notebook is really who I am.

I am so hungry right now. I just had a portion of my sandwich and it did not satisfy my hunger. My tummy isn�t making any noise, but it wants food so badly. So, now I am snaking on some M&Ms, which are keeping my mouth chewing, and my hands busy popping them into my mouth�

I saw Carrie at the hospital again yesterday. I know that she didn�t really want visitors, but I wanted to see how she was and drop her off something so she would not be so bored. She seems to be doing all right. She still has a lot of water in her, so they are trying to get that out. Hopefully she will be out sometime this week. I think that even though she had said she did not want visitors that she was very happy to see Phil and I. We stayed for quite some time. It was nice to be able to laugh and stuff. I was so happy to see Carrie almost unable to breath she was laughing so hard! I love those kinds of laughs. The deep felt in the tummy, wheezy laughs. The ones you just can�t seem to stop. The ones that make you wish that you were the one laughing. The ones that hurt your tummy inside (the good kind of hurt). I love those laughs.

I feel like going now. I have so much on my mind, and I just don�t know what else to say.