all the ghouls come out too play--- kalina's journal & photobook

Example of a picture up there, down here is where the diary entry goes, etc.

Dear Diary.
It feels odd writing those words. "Dear Diary". They used to mean a lot to me. Back then, when writing in my diary was like telling a story to a friend. I used to wait all day sometimes, just to write in my diary and reveal all of my secrets. It never occurred to me that one day I might not want too... it never occurred to me that one day, writing "Dear Diary" would feel alien and wrong. It always felt right. I always felt like by writing down my thoughts and my memories and my dreams and my feelings, I was confiding them into someone who would never tell them to another soul. Telling them to another person was what felt alien, but writing them down to you, that felt right. Now, both of them seem wrong. Talking to another person feels like I'm telling someone my biggest weakness', while writing this now feels like I'm talking to myself and no one else, and all these thoughts and feelings will just keep on weighing me down.
Its been a long time since I wrote a diary entry. Guess what happened in that time. Camp was invaded by Zombies, and... well, people died. We had safe houses, we weren't allowed out after dark, if we were out after dark- we got locked out. I got locked out once, near the beginning. When I was still the Kalina everyone knew. I guess it scared her, that Kalina. She wasn't the bravest of souls, was she? She didn't do heroic deeds or win battles with just her sword and a shield. She was clumsy and weak and cowardly and that's why she's not here now... because everything which has happened, every little thing, would break that Kalina. She would snap and she would never be the same again. That's why she's gone and left me, because if she hadn't she wouldn't be here at all. At least by leaving, she went somewhere.
When the safe houses finally opened and everyone went back to the Cabins, they all noticed the destruction. I noticed it. When I got back to the Hera Cabin, after what felt like decades... I went to my bed- her bed. A lot of the stuff had been ruined. The lamp she had was broken, shattered on the ground, mattress had fallen off the bed and the covers were in shreds. Her most prized possessions... well some of them survived, but none of them held that much interest for me. They were all so... none of them felt like they belonged to me, not anymore. I left them in the Muse Cabin... I think the other Kalina would have wanted her friend... Natalia... to have them. Leaving them there... I didn't feel a thing. Not one ounce of sadness or distraught that I was losing possessions which belonged to me. Instead I felt... lighter? Like I was ridding myself of one more problem.
The only thing I kept were the diaries and the voice recordings. The ones which survived, that is. Some of them were damaged beyond repair. I had to throw them out... but the rest, the ones which had only been slightly damaged or not damaged at all, I kept. It feels odd... reading what she wrote, hearing her voice, seeing her pictures. She seems happy in them. Her tone is upbeat... she doesn't have many bad things to say. I tried to reacquaint myself with her, I swear, I did, but... she's not here anymore. She's gone and left me to deal with this, so why should she have any right to be here?
I can't wrap my head around one thing though...
I mean, there's a lot I don't understand lately. I don't know what to think. But there is something-
Why didn't they help us?
The Gods had this Camp built, the children here are mostly Half-Bloods. Didn't the Gods feel any sort of sympathy for their children? Didn't they want their children to be safe? I understand not meddling in one child's life, I do, but when you consider it was a whole Camp, and every day more people died... why didn't they help?
Some people, I guess, didn't deserve help. In some ways I'm one of those people... I'm not a Half-Blood. I'm a Half-Titan. But a Camp full of their children, and they didn't lift a finger?
I just... don't understand it.
And since the other Kalina isn't here to help... well its just me, isn't it? I have no one else anymore. How can I make myself understand something which doesn't seem right? I can't sympathise with them or take their side- what the Gods did, that was just as bad as what the people who brought the Zombies in the first place did. They didn't help us, and we could have died. Every day I woke up expecting it to me my last, at least for the first week or so... after the first week or so, I stopped being able to sleep. But images of my death ran through my head every single moment of every single day, and I'm willing to bet other people had the same thoughts.
Whatever their reason for not stepping in, it was wrong.
And I don't know, but since I am not that kalina, the too naive and too forgiving Kalina... I don't know if I'll be able to forgive them.

I just found a load of pictures haha. Mainly from the last time I visited all my family, although all of them could be from them or only a few, I don't know. I plan on going back there soon, cause I miss them all a lot. Like loooooads. Maybe I'll go during the summer? Hopefully. I need the time haha.
Prepare for picture spam!

Dear Diary...
Sorry I took a while to come back to you! It was Christmas! After that entry Christmas Eve, I forgot about everything- cause presents!!!!! But I have a load to tell you, and I'll be writing more later. Right now, I'm just gonna stick in some pictures! You know that Baba and Dyado Stoyanova came over at the beginning of December, right? Well, they brought Mama over some copies of pictures they had, and then, to top it all off, they brought a camera just so they could take more pictures! So now, not only do I have an old picture of me, and pictures Mama won't miss, I have some new pictures from this month!

Dear Diary.
Its been a long time, I guess. When was my last entry? Sometime in November? It seems stupid to apologize to an inanimate object, but then again, it seems stupid t pour your heart and soul into the pages of a notebook that can never really help you. So I'm not going to say sorry. I'm not going to beg forgiveness like I did back in 2012 when I forgot to write in you for a few weeks.
Yeah. As you can see, I may have neglected to write down anything, but that doesn't mean I've stopped reading these. Every diary has been reread and studied. And every picture has been memorized. I can tell you what page and what diary every single one of them is on at this point- a little sad, am I right? But... I feel like I have too. I have to keep the memory of who I was alive. And if that means studying everything in the pages of these damn diaries, then I'll do it. I owe it to the girl I used to be.
Maybe that's one of the reasons I keep coming back. No matter how long, I come back to this diary and write down a new entry. Sure, don't get me wrong. Every time I come back it takes that little bit longer to know what to write. There was a time- the old me, the old Kalina's time- when nothing needed to be thought through. The words would pour out. I sat down today, and I spent so long trying to think of which words I would write using this silly black Biro. Everything seemed ridiculous... I can't be hopeful. I can't be happy. I can't be fake, in other words. There's no pretending that everything's good. I almost wrote down a quick entry- "I'm getting better. Everything is great. Just need time"- etc, etc, but that would have been lying to myself. I'm not getting better, because there is no better. There is no cure.
No matter how much I try, I can't just pull back who I used to be, I can't just make that girl reappear. I keep thinking everyone wants me to do that... and, to be honest, they probably do. I know they want her back. The goody two shoes girl who didn't have a care in the world. Who's innocence drove her on. Who had hopes and dreams. They don't want me, and I don't blame them. I'm not the greatest company, am I? I don't really want to be either... but I want to give them what they want. I got a letter from Yana back at Christmas, and ever since I've been carrying it around with me. I don't know why... but it hurts. It hurts reading her words to who I used to be, knowing that she has no idea, and all I want is to be able to give her back that girl. Give everyone back that girl. I speak to Samuel, and half the time all that's running through my head is "If only he'd met me before". I spoke to Raziel, and afterwards I felt... well, I don't know what I felt. I kept thinking over and over that it was like no matter who I was, or how I acted, she would never care, but I might have had a better chance as her half-sibling if I was the girl who wasn't able to be wounded or baited by her words. And I read Yana's letter, and all I think is how much I want to give her back the girl she's speaking too.
Its crazy. Its stupid. But before, I would have given anything to keep that girl gone and stay. She left, she went away, and she left me in her place. So it became my place, and she had no right to come back. Now though, all I want is for her to come back and be here. I want to disappear. No. No I don't want to disappear. I want to be here. But I'd rather disappear and give the people she cared for back the one they loved rather then know that every single day I'm here, I disappoint people. I'm not her.
My thoughts... are so jumbled. Maybe its a side effect of another goddamned war. Yeah. I'm writing this while camping out with a few other campers from the monsters. I opted to take the watch. Cause I needed time to think. I couldn't sleep, and I thought... well, I thought that by writing down my thoughts, it would help me work them out. But it hasn't. All its done is confuse me even more.
Look. I don't know when I'll write again. I don't know if I'll ever want to write again. So... this might be goodbye for a temporary time, or this might be goodbye forever. Whichever one it may be... bye.

Disclaimer; gif made by me so if you steal you die.

Dear Diary.
I want it to end. Everything. The pain, the suffering. The sorrow. Every day is a struggle- a struggle for life, for peace... for an end. My limbs feel heavy... it's like I never sleep. I'm just tired all of the time.
I want it to end so I can rest now, finally.

Dear Diary.
I don't remember writing that.
It's going to sound insane, but I don't. Actually... maybe I do. I remember picking up the pen. I remember sitting down with the diary. But pressing the pen to the page? Writing? I don't.
Strange how it's so true. Every word. Except, I was too afraid to write those feelings down. Someone will find it on day, and think I was crazy- which, in a way, I think I am. But...
I don't know.
I feel like I'm too different people. There's theme I was, and there's the me she became. Two different people. No one else understands... can't they see? Or has the human race become blind too other people? I feel different... but being different to the old Kalina has it's "problems".
And the main "problem"? I want everything to

THE ENTRY ENDS HERE. A BLACK INK SMUDGE ON THE CORNER OF THE PAGE HERE SOMEONE'S PALM RESTED ON THE DYING INK CAN BE SEEN. NO WORDS, DRAWINGS OF MARKS OTHER THAN THAT COME AFTER THE WORLD "Everything".
FOUR BLANK PAGES ON, THE DIARY CONTINUES AS NORMAL, NO EVIDENCE OR MENTION OF THE PREVIOUS ENTRIES.