Diary entry 1
In times of displeasure, I take a stroll along the beach, because that is where I feel most at ease; where seagulls shriek high up above the sea and sandy dunes. Where surf rolls in, crashing with white waters frantic waves. Almost instantly, my mind become at ease. I look at the foot and paw prints of animals in the stippled sandy mounds and notice with a sweet acknowledgement that the golden sands rest with not just the expected golden sandy colour but within each dip lies a shadow; dark and inviting. Yet on one side of the tiny footprint there is a blue shadow, beautiful and bright and bright like electricity while on the other side the sand is golden and yellow, beautiful and soft, as you would expect it to be. To see the golden yellow sand, with dapples of cool calming electric blue colours created by shadows from the early morning glow. It put a smile on my face because such a sight is a rarity, an unexpected beauty. I smile despite myself, I feel better already due to that simple pleasure.
Diary entry 2:
As I walk, I glimpse a thing of splendour, delicate, sad, but ultimately beautiful. It was for me a wondrous, yet insignificant sight. In the distance, I see a quaint chocolate wrapper. Sighing with life and fluttering, swirling its edges in the gentle breeze. I watch the wrapper dance. Despite how sad it is to see that someone has thrown a wrapper on the road to pollute the environment and do the world no good, I remind myself that I can always pick it up, and put it in the bin (unless its recyclable). I gaze as the wrapper pirouettes down towards me, sometimes fast, energetic, other times slow and gradual as the last wisps of wind picks up its tail end. It arrives at my side, and I walk and I run, along with the wrapper, I glide. I find myself dancing, alongside the wrapper, joyously with the winds striking tide. Admittedly whenever I see rubbish fluttering in the winds, it upsets me, but then cheers me up once I watch its dance sequence. I am reminded that I should always put the wrapper in the bin, do my bit for the planet earth. Above all, the sheer concept of something that ultimately has no life, to show a swaying breath of life like that, to be able to dance, and swish with kinetic energy is simply fascinating to me. This is something that cheers me up, despite being really quite worthless. The concept of what makes one’s life, alive, is something that truly captivates me with intrigued curiosity. The thought that anything, no matter how lifeless, can have a joyous moment of beauty, a stir and sigh of life, movement, is heart warming to me; it reminds me that even in dull or nasty times in life, there is a moment or two awaiting us all, of pure happy bliss. As even something with no life at all, such as a chocolate wrapper, has a chance of flying excitement when the wind comes along and sweeps it out of the rubbish bin. Contented times await us all, that remind us what life is really about, happiness, acceptance, understanding, love and support. This is something that lightens my mood on a dreary stressful day. Simply seeing a chocolate wrapper, fluttering within the breeze, or a plastic bag flying the streets, reminds me of that concept.
Diary entry 3:
I am in my room crying out in pure desperation, from the early morning stress taking over. Tears dart across my cheeks, stinging and draining my cheek of colour. I wipe away a tear and decide to try and cheer myself up, I was fed up with feeling sorry for myself, I won’t make myself feel better if I just sit around crying, will I? If I let myself cry like that or think negatively like that for ages, I would never be happy. I stand up, put some music on my C.D player, and become frustrated with the machine that would not work. Sighing in frustrated annoyance, I reach over to my curtains to open them, hoping for some light so I could see the buttons on the C.D player properly. For a split second, I was dazzled by streaks of light filtered through the gap in the curtain. Distracted now, I watched mesmerised, as thousands of tiny specks floated in the air around me, only visible in the blinding light sifting through the curtains. Dust particles that were so tiny, danced and flew about, whirling in glory, creating patterns, free, delicate, streaking in swirling fashions of white. As I watched, I fixed on one tiny dust particle, and watched as it bounced and splayed about, spinning, rotating, gracefully flying and bumping into other specks, and suddenly it neared the edge of the light streak and it disappeared entirely. I smiled and opened the curtain all the way so my entire room was filled with light and dancing particles. Maybe, I thought to myself as I became captivated with the whole room’s dancing sequence, just maybe, I should open the windows and do some dusting. This cheered me up a great deal, I like dusting; if I wear a mask I can dust and watch dust clouds develop in the atmosphere, it’s one of life fascinatingly boring jobs.
Diary entry 4:
I was swimming in the sea with my dad, and he says to me as he is doing breast stroke;
“I’m not saying I’m overweight, but I can’t move... my belly is beached on the sand!”
We were laughing for ages; it really tickled me and cheered me up. In his defence it was shallow water, and my knee kept hitting the sand, but still, the thought of someone swimming and getting beached upon the sand, was quite hilarious to me.
Diary entry 5:
Driving home from a distressing incident one day, we took a long route through the countryside with ACDC blaring on the radio. All around me there were miles of rolling hills and luscious grass, and yet I still could not bring myself to appreciate the beauty of my surroundings. I was too shocked by my last ordeal. It was a baking hot day, stress levels were high, and tears were sliding down my face in unwelcome quiet shock. I tried my best to hide the tears from the driver but I think even he knew something had happened but could not bring himself to ask. I felt the need to cover up and slowly wiping tears away with my sleeve, too scared to make any sudden movements as if the driver found out and saw me hiding the tears, oh the trouble I would be in later. I looked up momentarily to catch my reflection in the window, just to check if I had red eyes or any swellings, and then through the window, from a distance I caught a glimpse of the most marvellous of things. Distracted now, I gaze beyond the car up ahead, and saw a huge herd of magnificent horses, galloping across the road, clouds of dust swirling from their hooves, fast, powerful and majestic. I watched, intrigued from their majesty, as they galloped away, under a tree offering brief shadowed shelter before they sprinted off into the harsh heat of the light. As I watched, I saw how their coats gleamed in shabby extravagance, how their tails whooshed and swept behind them. Momentarily forgetting about my tears, and even the experience of why I had been crying, I leaned out to get a better look. I soon saw what the horses were rushing towards; a glistening lake which was just off to my right, with shimmering waters sparkling and gleaming with magical inviting intrigue, providing the sweet promise of refreshing relief from thirst. I learnt further forward in my seat as we drove closer, my mind at ease, distracted, and feeling much better. I was now excited to witness the horses grand, splashing entrance to the cold waters. The road I was travelling upon had turned and we drove towards the lake they were heading for, and now we were just metres away. Now closer, I could see much more detail. They gallop onwards, faster, bashing, bumbling and rocking their necks from side to side in their haste, their beautifully unkept hair swinging from side to side. One horse distinctly leading the pack, runs tall, unafraid, with a coat of gleaming brown, dappled with white, strength shining through the bent legs. As the leading horse’s hooves met the shallows of water, even from a distance I could see tiny spots of water fly up into the air. Droplets in their thousands, were throwing themselves high, around the horses legs, rainbow colours catching the light in the miniscule seconds of their flight. The force of the gallop onwards caused the glistening water to stream back, against their legs, now in larger, more defined water splashes. As the waves and splashes swept back, the other horses ran in behind and the water at their hooves, swept in swirling beauty. Before long, the entire herd had splashed in chaotic magnificence into the shocked tumbling waters. As they slowed, the water rippled to a slow gradual pace and the reflections dancing and combining with the blue skies mottled together with exquisite colours. The horses were now trotting lazily around in the brilliance of the cold waters, and I smiled; it cheered me up a treat. I felt so privileged to see this act of nature, one of its most natural, the need to cool down and have a cool sip of water, on a stressful hot day.
Joely's Diary of Smiles