I stop. I breathe. Am I welcomed here? Not sure. By some, I am sure that I would be, but by others, I am not so sure. Were it not for Seth, and his encouragement for me to start my own online journal, I would not be writing this. Most everything would be like everything else written, stored away, in a notebook, in a box, somewhere, anywhere but under public eye. All of what I have written that has gone public, has been real. For my college newspaper, I've written advice columns, reviews, and yes, an editorial or six. I believe in being real. You will find nothing in the journal that is not true about me. Even the name is true. It is your perception that makes it what you believe. I also believe in being false. Seems quite the absurd thing to say, as much as I enforce honesty and exposure and yet ... I believe there are some things that are not necessarily things that one wishes to share with others. Such as "how are you today, Melissa?" and I feel like shit, but yet, I don't want others to share in my misfortunes, so I tell them all that "I'm doing well." Masks are important; they can cause great relief and beauty and yet ... yet they can also be your downfall. Everything depends on how the mask is worn. More will come about me in a later entry, I assure you. I assure you there will be plenty more entries to follow this. There will be no set schedule, no order, and no obligation for any of these entries. They will all be me, you, the world. Dreams. Dreams are one of the main reasons for starting this journal. I suppose this is best explained at a later date, when more time is given - more leniency, more devotion. If any of you know Seth ... Quietseth of Lucid Dreams. I believe you would understand then. Or, perhaps not. Not many people understand. Understanding and believing are not the same thing. A trillion things are out there for us to understand ... but just because I understand something does not make me believe in it. But I say this now. Welcome to my diary.