by minimus 559 Replies latest jw friends
From 21 November 2006:
Hi all - My name is Nelly and I find that I have to STOP myself from logging on sometimes.
I say I'll only have one drink (I mean only look for five minutes) and two hours later . . . here I sit! ******************************************** Yes, Nellie ... two, three, four hours later ................ to infinity.
Dear Diary,
I plowed my way up the stone stairs leading to Libby's wraparound porch. It's not so much that I was putting off facing Johnny's distraught and confused sister, but my feet were leaden - holding me back - as I climbed the 40 stairs (I had counted them many a time) leading to an uncertain reception. I finally made a landing at the entry and knocked. And knocked again. No answer. I looked inside - the living room was lit up like broad daylight - and stepped back with a start.
Johnny was seated on the sofa, head in hands, and his sister was huddled up to him, holding him tightly. She was so intent on comforting her brother that she either didn't hear my knocking or just couldn't risk letting go of him. I tried the door - unlocked - and quietly let myself in. I padded through the high-ceilinged vestibule and made a right into the huge room where the pair was interlocked. They apparently sensed my furtive entry because they both looked up, no alarm or surprise written on their faces.
Libby was ashen, Johnny looking blank. Lost. I moved toward them gently and kneeled down on the worn, hand-braided carpet that their grandmother had made years ago from old navy blankets. We all three of us looked into each other's faces and so much was said with unspoken words.
Dear Diary,
When we were little kids Johnny and I were called "two peas in a pod" by some of the amused older folk. We were inseparable (and, of course, Stan tagging along). I told you before that somewhere in the stream of time (church term!) my folks got religion. They became strict about what, I guess, you'd call the important stuff, like not taking the Lord's name in vain, not stealing - yadda yadda. But they weren't sticklers for crazy rules and regs about the neighbor kid being of the Devil. They let me keep Johnny. He was invited to Bible class but he said no, though I'm sure it would've been okay with his parents.
Here's the rub. I went to church and I sort of got into it and became quite religious, don't you know. Holier than thou? Not really. Just very certain that I was in "The Way." Johnny ignored my pretense or conviction. Whatever. Johnny was the real spiritual man. He had this sense about him. He always seemed to do the right thing instinctively. He didn't need a book of rules like the older ones at church. They needed permission to go to a wedding in another church. Or to work overtime. Johnny was a free spirit but never abused the gift he had. His good deeds were an effortless and daily occurrence. For me it was mapped out, planned.
I think you churchies know what I mean, that is, if your eyes have been opened.
From r., 21 November 2006
Because I am at home, I have the luxury of reading when ever I want. Mornings are especially bad, .....that first hot cup of coffee and JWD.......a real sorry a$$ addiction. Not really though! I feel this is a unique board with members wanting to connect on a level you don't see anywhere else.
We have all struggled with deep emotional turmoil from the same place, we are not looking to prove or fight about anything, just share our experiences and gain strength in our day to day lives.
Some move on and others stay. A lot come back to say hello or get renewed strength. This says a lot about the people here!
Have a great Thanksgiving everyone!
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We're all gaining - aren't we?
Dear Diary,
Some groundwork should be laid before proceeding further with events of the last few days that involve Johnny, his best friend and Libby. Understanding the complex nature of how an individual might interpret the actions of his fellowman is in order here. When someone hits you over the head with a club or words it's unlikely you'll take the blow for a love tap. It's more difficult, however, to interpret an act of kindness shown you. Depending on your frame of mind or emotional state at any given time, you might misinterpret another's kind deed as an overture of love.
This has always been Johnny's dilemma. This ghostwriter speaks on behalf of Johnny's best friend, Stan's big brother (he continues to remain nameless and for a very good reason), who senses the following but would have difficulty stating the obvious. To put it simply, Johnny is a modern-day Adonis. Everyone loves a good person, but one who is a chiseled and dimpled peaches-and-cream complexioned youth with a shock of black curls adorning his brow like a crown has an unfair advantage over the average doer of good deeds.
Adonis has been "boared" and requires the intervention of Hades.
Choosing life, from 21 November 2006:
I read every day and post when I feel like it. I do spend hours some days when I am not working. All in all, a lot of hours involved. But, it is helping me to recreate myself and stay away from toxic relationships.
Maybe this will change, but not soon I don't think. This is one of the few places where I can say what I really think without screening the content for Witness objections and raised eyebrows.
Thanks.
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Neither raised nor knitted brows here!
Dear Diary,
Talked yesterday with a fave cousin on the phone for two hours. We were talking about getting past certain things, like unrequited love. Some parents are incapable of showing love and concern. They say cruel things that make us cry. She has come to terms with an emptiness that can never be filled. We had grandparents in common, loving and generous ones. I was amazed through the course of our conversation how much she sounded like Grandma---her voice and her wisdom and love. I told her so, and that I loved her. We are friends forever; we will stay in touch....
I'm going to have a nice bowl of chicken soup now.
CoCo
(from 29 January 2007)
Dear Diary,
I'm feeling terrible about what I said to Johnny.
I've known him since we were little kids - he and Libby moved into the big house on the cliff when I was in fifth grade. My parents were dirt poor so we lived, as they say, on the wrong side of the tracks. Really, that's where we lived. After a while you don't fall out of bed from fright when the train roars by at 3:00 a.m.
I think we were basically happy though we never really had that much to eat. Clothes? Never anything new, well, maybe at Christmas if Mom and Dad weren't angry at my grandparents over some stupid thing or another. Hand-me-downs - that's what Billie and I always got. Billie, she's my little sister - bratty little kid. She's better now that she's older ... You can call me second-hand Rose.
Anyway, I always kinda liked Johnny because he wasn't like all the other guys in town. He was always so sweet and thoughtful. To everybody. You know, helping the old ladies with their gardens, running errands for them. He got pennies for doing one ancient biddy's errands and my mom always said it wasn't worth the shoe leather for what she paid him. He didn't care. He was nice at school - we went to University Avenue Grammar School. What a rundown, depressing old wreck of a building. A real eyesore. Johnny brightened many a day for us there.
Us? Me and a thousand other girls. He seemed so unaware that everyone had a crush on him. I don't mean the guys - that would've been too weird. But they liked him sure enough. They never seemed jealous of him or any such thing. He was always palling around with some Tom, Dick or Harry. He never played favorites.
He was never mean to me - ever. That's why I'm feeling so rotten about what I screamed at him yesterday ...
R.
Occasionally .......................
From January 2007
I'd be here more often if I knew there would be regular entires in CoCo's diary,
now I'm wondering what tomorrow will bring...
I'm totally diggin it. ;)
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Thanks, Miss Ann! Please return!
CoCo
