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My Time Machine

 

I came upon an old notebook while I was sorting through a pile of old books and magazines. I leafed through the faded pages and was surprised to find out that I kept a diary in English. Well actually I can't really call it a diary, for they are simply random thoughts put down in a childish scrawl. It reminded me of a time when I was young and naive. Puberty and high school were horrible for me and I was an anxious and somewhat quirky child. I spent most of my time alone, talking to myself and writing odd stories. Much of my attention centered on the sentimentality that can consume girls during their high-school years. But it really was fun reading what I doodled years ago. Thank god now I’ve grown up and have got rid of all the nightmares from the past that used to hunt me like a ghost. I am mature and much more optimistic.
Anyhow I decided to type some parts of it into the computer, in case that I might lose my notebook (I don't keep a tidy room).

>> When I'm on a train I would imagine a creepy monster picking up the locomotive and flinging all the carriages away as if he is cracking a whip... And I would wonder where I end up, in an odd cave or head broken and bleeding in the coach.
Sometimes there are beggars on the train. I feel so sad every time I hear the staff saying things like 'begging prohibited'. If I come down to begging and all I hear is just these cold and heartless words I would be so sad.

>> "What are you guys talking about? All right whatever you are talking about I don't care and don't want to hear." ---My repeating inner voice every time when I'm eating with a bunch of people. Not sure how to communicate with others, I'm really embarrassed of my silence.

>> I love nights. If my mind could be this active during the day I might have killed more than ten people.

>> I thought about it for a long while without figuring out how exactly I want others to comfort me when I'm dying for comforts. I guess words are never going to help. I want something tangible. Either give me money or kill me will do. I don't need god to protect me. If he has guts he should just stab me.

>> Every time I get a message or a phone call my heart just clenches. If only I could just smash my phone every time it vibrates! But at the same time I would also think that I shouldn't do that because you might flash up on my screen. I feel that I like you as much as anyone I could think of. But how come they all seem to have so much more to say to you? It bothers me.

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    My Time Machine

    I came upon an old notebook while (I was) sorting through a pile of old books and magazines. I leafed through the faded pages and was surprised to find (out that) I had kept a diary in English. Well,  actually, I can't really call it a diary, for they are simply random thoughts put down in a childish scrawl. It reminded me of a time when I was young and naive. Puberty and high school were horrible for me and I was an anxious and somewhat quirky child. I spent most of my time alone, talking to myself and writing odd stories. Much of my attention centered on the sentimentality that can consume girls during their high-school years. But it really was fun reading what I doodled years ago. Thank God now I’ve grown up and (have got) rid myself of (all) the nightmares from the past that used to haunt (hunt) me like a ghost. I am mature and much more optimistic.
    Anyhow, I decided to type some parts of it into the computer, in case that I might lose my notebook (I don't keep a tidy room).

    >> When (I'm) on a train, I would imagine a creepy monster picking up the locomotive and flinging all the carriages away, as if (he is) cracking a whip... And I would wonder where I would end up, in an odd cave or lying with my head injured (broken)and bleeding in the coach.
    Sometimes there are beggars on the train. I feel so sad every time I hear the staff saying things like 'begging prohibited'. If I am reduced (come down) to begging and all I hear is just these cold and heartless words, I would be so sad.

    >> "What are you guys talking about? All right, whatever it is (you are talking about) I don't care and don't want to hear." ---My repeating inner voice, every time when I'm eating with a bunch of people. Not sure how to communicate with others, I'm really embarrassed at (of) my silence.

    >> I love nights. If my mind could be this active during the day, I might have killed more than ten people.

    >> I thought about it for a long while without figuring out how, exactly, I would want others to comfort me when I'm dying for comforts. I guess words are never going to help. I want something tangible. Either give me money or kill me, will do. I don't need God to protect me. If he has guts he should just stab me.

    >> Every time I get a message or a phone call, my heart just clenches. If only I could just smash my phone every time it vibrates! But at the same time, I would also think that I shouldn't do that because you might flash up on my screen. I feel that I like you as much as anyone I could think of. But how come they all seem to have so much more to say to you? It bothers me.

     

    You have a natural aptitude for writing English, The language you use is descriptive and your writing cohesive. I like the way you start each sentence with a variety of different words, which is to be welcomed when cf the usual 'I......'. Keep up the excellent work !

      OOPT

    My Time Machine

    I came upon an old notebook while I was sorting through a pile of old books and magazines. I leafed through the faded pages and was surprised to find out that I kept a diary in English. Well actually, I can't really call it a diary, for they are simply random thoughts put down in a childish scrawl. It reminded me of a time when I was young and naive. Puberty and high school were horrible for me and I was an anxious and somewhat quirky child. I spent most of my time alone, talking to myself and writing odd stories. Much of my attention centered on the sentimentality that can consume girls during their high-school years. But it really was fun reading what I doodled years ago. Thank god now I’ve grown up and have got rid of all the nightmares from the past that used to haunt me like a ghost. I am mature and much more optimistic.
    Anyhow I decided to type some parts of it into the computer, in case that I might lose my notebook (I don't keep a tidy room).

    >> When I'm on a train I would imagine a creepy monster picking up the locomotive and flinging all the carriages away as if he is cracking a whip... And I would wonder where would I end up, in an odd cave or head broken and bleeding in the coach.
    Sometimes there are beggars on the train. I feel so sad every time I hear the staff saying things like 'begging prohibited'. If I came down to begging and all I hear is just these cold and heartless words I would be so sad.

    >> "What are you guys talking about? All right whatever you are talking about, I don't care and don't want to hear it." ---My repeating inner voice, every time when I'm eating with a bunch of people. Not sure how to communicate with others, I'm really embarrassed of by my silence.

    >> I love nights. If my mind could be this active during the day I might have killed more than ten people.

    >> I thought about it for a long while, without figuring out exactly how I want others to comfort me when I'm dying for comfort. I guess words are never going to help. I want something tangible. Either give me money or killing me will do. I don't need God to protect me. If he has the guts he should just stab me. 


    >> Every time I get a message or a phone call, my heart just clenches. If only I could just smash my phone every time it vibrates! But at the same time, I would also think that I shouldn't do that because you might flash up on my screen. I feel that I like you as much as anyone I can think of. But how come they all seem to have so much more to say to you? It bothers me.

     

    My Time Machine

    I came upon an old notebook while I was sorting through a pile of old books and magazines. I leafed through the faded pages and was surprised to find out that I kept a diary in English. Well actually I can't really call it a diary, for they are simply random thoughts put down in a childish scrawl. It reminded me of a time when I was young and naive. Puberty and high school were horrible for me and I was an anxious and somewhat quirky child. I spent most of my time alone, talking to myself and writing odd stories. Much of my attention centered on the sentimentality that can consume girls during their high-school years. But it really was fun reading what I doodled years ago. Thank God now I’ve grown up and have got rid of all the nightmares from the past that used to hunt me like a ghost. I am mature and much more optimistic.
    Anyhow, I decided to type some parts of it into the computer, in case that I might lose my notebook (I don't keep a tidy room).

    >> When I'm on a train I would imagine a creepy monster picking up the locomotive and flinging all the carriages away as if he is cracking a whip... And I would wonder where I end up, in an odd cave or head broken and bleeding in the coach.
    Sometimes there are beggars on the train. I feel so sad every time I hear the staff saying things like 'begging prohibited'. If I come down to begging and all I hear is just these cold and heartless words, I would be so sad.

    >> "What are you guys talking about? All right whatever you are talking about I don't care and don't want to hear." ---My repeating inner voice every time when I'm eating with a bunch of people. Not sure how to communicate with others, I'm really embarrassed of my silence.

    >> I love nights. If my mind could be this active during the day I might have killed more than ten people.

    >> I thought about it for a long while without figuring out how exactly I want others to comfort me when I'm dying for comfort. I guess words are never going to help. I want something tangible. Either giving me money or killing me will do. I don't need God to protect me. If he has guts he should just stab me.

    >> Every time I get a message or a phone call my heart just clenches. If only I could just smash my phone every time it vibrates! But at the same time I would also think that I shouldn't do that because you might flash up on my screen. I feel that I like you as much as anyone I could think of. But how come they all seem to have so much more to say to you? It bothers me.

     

    [Excellent English]

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