Used to have a diary because I needed a friend. Wrote down what I needed to say, it felt saver on paper because my diary would never answer back or look at me with disappointment.
“You’re ‘sentence’ will be all over the paper..”
Kind of sad but this diary had the only right to ignore me and still give me comfort.
My mom once said there is no one in this world you can trust but your family and close friends. I took that with me since the very day I heard the words flowed from her lips.
It’s personal; something so easy that trees have to die for. Glued together to make it strong so their dead won’t be unnecessary. You’re ‘sentence’ will be all over the paper, the tears you cried marked on the wrinkled spots of the paper. Signed with your very own signature of writing. My Diaries turned into that unfinished business named notebooks. It was a series of stories that never reached the last page, but lingered on the lines of page 105. It was time to leave that chapter behind, a fresh start; a blank paper. I wasted lives of many trees because I wanted a new skin, so badly.
An unpublished creation left in the corner to be passed on to the next generation, to read the pain and the joy of ones past life. But that unfinished business turned out to be the inspiration to a future piece of art, whose heart has been shattered once. Unfinished + unfinished became one finished piece. It’s amazing what you can gather together from the present to the past.
The things we experienced, stone cold hearts that turned into springs of water became a new cover of accepting who you are. My diary was the closest thing I had to God, that way he could easily read my thoughts.