Dear Diary


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I know I’ve abandoned you since I scribbled my name on the cover. I was pretty excited to own you and I felt ecstatic about you being a part of my life. But after a few lines and some weeks later, I went on with my life as if you never existed. Ever since I could remember, my diary existed in my head. All I had to do was to think about something deep enough for it to be saved on the memory drive. Then I was done. As much I loved to play around with words and share the piece with the world, I couldn’t bring myself to write about me on your pages.

I’ve been told how important it is to write down your thoughts, dreams and goals but I actually prefer to have them in the audio format-playing in my head whenever I need to remind myself where I am and what I’m supposed to do to get to where I need to be.

You would be wondering why I got you in the first place if I wasn’t planning on making good use of your plain empty pages. Ah well, perhaps as much as I love to see my fingers busily composing some work of literary art, I think it frightens me as well. I’m scared of pouring my heart out on a page because doing that makes them real. Inking them down means there is evidence of what I wish I could have but don’t have yet or a glimpse of the future I don’t see unfolding anytime soon considering my present circumstances. And I don’t want to open you up only to read of crushed dreams and unfulfilled plans. The disappointment would be too much.

So if I’m spending time with you right now, it is just to let you know I still hold you dear to me (you’re always in my head, remember?) I will try and visit you more…I need to because sometimes my memories fail me but there are some things I can’t afford to forget; that’s when you come in.

If God gave me this beautiful gift to work with words the way I do so as to inspire someone out there, then He also meant for me to benefit from it myself, right? Besides, that’s how He talks to me sometimes…in words from my own fingers.

Till next time,

Me.

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