I have decided to open my journal up. It is called My Journal Winter 1984. There is some strong language in it, but as most of my readers are young, I doubt there is anything you haven't heard among your school chums, probably on a daily basis. For my older readers, you're sophisticated enough, I'm sure to understand why the language has to be there.
Search engines have been instructed to crawl past it. I certainly hope they are true to their word. I do not want the world to think the anger and hatred I express therein are me today.
For those of you looking for inspiration, this is as inspiring, I'm afraid, as a pile of dog poop. But it is a historical document and, thus, worth preserving in its original form. If I ever buy a scanner, maybe I'll scan it in.
So here's the link: My Journal Winter 1984
