A family. A home.

Entry 2. The bus runs away along the streets as I stare through the trees. 400 people follow this blog and see my artwork, people I don't know who know me. Have I made it yet? Am I alive yet? Or is there no life in their thoughts of me, am I just a breathing dream, like the others; dying in time. Entry 7. The smoke raises over trees in the streets below the smooth waves of sand, the crashing of waves. I remember that day like it was today, its shattered bittersweetness looms my mind; it is serene, I am haunted. I walk along the cliffs atop a beach nearby the setting sun. I hear my grandmothers sweet piano as each note dies a little more after all these years. None of these things are lost to me but they feel like they are. I imagine my siblings running down the hall and laughing or crying, caring about these little things. I imagine my old teddy in the reflection of my younger sisters mirror, sitting there silently among a thousand fading details. These imaginations are fictious, I don't need to go home to see whats happened. All these memories are burning away, oh god please just take me away. Entry I Hello, my name is... Well that doesn't really matter, no one here knows my username, so as long as I leave no personal details this should remain confidential. This blog is my attempt at finally getting organised, which for eleven years now has been the greatest hold back on my grades. I am in year 11 and have almost always required student assistance. The specialised teachers rarely help but it gives me extra periods to get the work done meaning I get little homework, my mental deficiencies hardly hold me back anymore, the only thing that does is not doing my homework the few times I get it. Today the school is doing a learn to drive program which takes up the first four periods and then a VCE talk which takes up the last two; knowing this very few people came today, hence the only reason I got this seat. Thankfully the simmering post Summer heat has been repented today as the night has carried over into morning in the form of thick clouds which play over the distant mountains from which our rural road is running. There's nothing left to say just yet, I'll update recess and lunch or through 'class' if I'm sneaky enough.