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It was a wildly disorganized process. She started by bulldozing through the roughest outline of Fred's life, from start to finish, filling about half the first journal, and then went back to address a variety of important events and write down all the finer details she still retained. As the days passed, she lost focus more and more, and would slip into tangentially related notes, like thoughts on those memories based on the medieval history class she'd taken, or elements of Fred's family life or travels leading her to comment lengthily on her own respective experiences. After about a week, she had quite forgotten the original purpose of this project, and just kept on journaling. And kept on journaling. Her life wasn't too easy, but writing things down helped her to keep things straight. To envision a future, anyway. And writing "Dear diary" at the beginning of every entry almost made it feel like she had a friend. Classes were going pretty well. She was shy and unpopular, but her parents seemed pleased with her academic achievements, when they had the time and energy to talk to her after their own long workdays. She kept on journaling, nearly every day. Her bookshelf slowly filled with them, and she used her allowance to buy new ones as needed.
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