Inside the Bell Jar

"This used to be good writing. Now, it's not even mediocre. Now this is the worst journal on the net  probably the worst journal anywhere. The journal is horrible because the writing is horrible. The greatest writing comes from someone who's depressed, and I'm happy which makes my life and my writing less introspective and more like pointless ramblings, and I can't understand why anyone would read this anymore."

Psyche Redival's world of wild swirling colors, flagellating and uncomfortable emotions, dichotomous paradigms, and silent screams. Welcome to the woods. They are dark and deep. Deep and rich with colors, tones, textures and emotional introspection which is almost unparalleled on the net. A brief warning, some of this writing is very graphical, but it's refreshing to find someone who is so willing to bear everything, to open themselves up so completely that their writing melts through their skin until their soul is bared, naked and glistening, to the world. This is a place where a person's inner emotions, darkest deeds, and happiest shining moments are all revealed with even handed candor. Everything from dating and lost virginity to driving tests with Elvis are brought to fine within this mock-universe of temptation and purity. The balance is a precipitous one, and the fall could be a long one...

"I have become a slave to too many masters. The lies I've told to go drinking, to go over to Mike's house, to be a normal teenager, are weighing down this heavy burden upon me, and I feel my depression sneaking back like a thief in the night. It is returning to steal my happiness and all that I have worked so hard and for so long to reclaim. I can't write in here because there are so many bad memories, yet only when I was venting and writing four or five pages a day did I really express myself and let everything come pouring out from inside of me. So why is there now this fear or lack of wanting to write in my journal. I can only conclude it comes from one thing  that dark depression returns."

If you're gonna read, you're gonna come into the woods. Bring a light. A good one. And, bring your sense of adventure.

Simplicity Five

"Of course, I spent half the class obsessing over that damned guy, and the other half analyzing what a moron I was. I groaned and flopped down on my desk. Theresa asked me what was wrong. I said: "Nothing." Always stoic in a moment of defeat."

Simplicity, inadequacy, brains, and sass. Sometimes hard to separate. Lilac and lavender are two different shades, but they're the same color. Other than having to squint (a minor complaint) you'll have great fun reading this journal. This one is more about the minutiae of daily life then the preceding, but it's every bit as rich. Its detail in describing emotion, worry, ambition and anger ('I've a new list of enemies to kill') make it a rare jewel in a sea of confusion.

It seems that this journal regularly reincarnates. This version is dubbed 'inadequacy' and it's quite effective in homing in on the feeling. Almost every entry is an exercise in self examination and an exploration of inadequacy, you can feel the writer yearning, hurting, and exploring. Everything is cohesive and the writing is extremely cognizant of its purpose and underlying theme. Different shades of the author are revealed, but all are variations of a common theme-a rough patch; a school several years ago where the author was the 'small fish' in the pond, and the author's miraculous transformation into someone that's paid attention to now that she's attending a new school, and is part of a new environment. It is a journey from the alpha state into a lucid state of consciousness where critical and unswerving self examination are revealed with witty candor to the audience, humor and pain are spliced together into a grotesque two-headed beast that leers through the prose in perfect life like fashion.

"I hate reality. I hate the fact that it kicks me when I'm down. Pokes its spindly nose into my fantasies  every girl needs fantasies  and reminds me how moronically idealistic I'm being. Damned reality. [Grumble grumble grumble Reality just isn't fair to people like me. You know, the people who don't have the... ahem, attributes [?] to stroll through a rose-coloured world, so they plod bitterly through a dingy existence. Fantasy is an escape"

Once again, we're going into the woods.

Madliba

"John and I consider ourselves the dirty-minded ones, the sinful children. And since we are simply dear friends, I could tweak his nipples, or he could grab my ass, but it wouldn't mean much. I haven't felt so sexually free in months, and it is such a good feeling. I am able to write freely- my feelings and desires exposed. I am able to touch a boy without that chemistry being anything more than a spark of static electricity."

Sex, poets, pixies, punks, and art. There are worse things in life, and worse reading on the net, too. You can call the second half of Madliba's entries 'The Great John Obsession,' but the author would probably kill you for it. The reading is interesting, though, and introspective as well. And it doesn't completely focus on the mysterious John-- it also delves into issues that are surely on teen's minds...

'As I watch these two skater rats on my bus this afternoon, studying their ragged khakis and skateshoes and baseball caps-upon-short haircuts, it makes me wonder if I will ever have a child like either of them someday. Will I ever have children? And if so, will they grow up to be spoiled suburbanites, distant from their parents in every possible way?'

There's the usual rant about high school, stupid teachers, art vs. life...and sketching pixies??? How about critisicm of punks, or rather, the "Impunkbecausemymomgivesmeallowancetobuyaneyebrowring" type. There's music commentary, analyses of teen self esteem, vulnerability, and the occasional 'schmack' on the crack-head dominant zombie wanna be types roaming around campus who are fashionably bereft and challenged. Tune in, turn on, and

Saranwarp

Confused? Do you ever wonder who folds your panties at the laundromat? Who's Afraid of Y2K? These questions and others are answered in an excellently coded and photographically enhanced website maintained by Dori Mondon. One of Dori's entries is especially relevant to our OnCommon this week:

"Alright, what's with all this "GRRRRL" stuff? At first it was cute  punk-rocky lookin' tank girls with shaved heads and tank tops toting skateboards, designing web sites, climbing mountains, blah blah blah... Everything a boy can do, grrls can do better. And, of course, with the help & support of our sisters. I can't argue, it IS beneficial  there are a whole host of sites cashing in on this "grrl power" thing right now. It sucks that we have to wait for a marketing craze before we can get decent recognition, but hey, that's where those supporting dollars come from. So yeah, I can see the sense in this  are those supporting dollars coming from other women? Or, unfortunately, are we ourselves cashing in on this thing too just to make a buck? Hopefully, we've got women behind those promotional campaigns..."

There's lots of grrl attitude here, self assured ranting about 'other people's stupidity' (most of it true), and journal entries dating back to 1997. If you are a fan of Burning Man, you can find some Burning Man stuff here.

All in all, Saranwarp is intelligently written executed and entertaining. Please read it.

Thanks to everyone who submitted their URL for grrl power. Special thanks to Brooke Collins who helped me gather many URLs in search of interesting reading.

Next:

Journals Down Under. Not Crocodile Dundee, ya' know, but good strong solid journals from the land of the kangaroo and the dreamtime. If you're an Australian diarist, please submit your URL using the submit button at the page top.