that diary page

you*

shisha*

loud music*

soothing voices*

blooming flowers*

crashing waves*

cool breeze*

warm embrace*

sweet nothings*

meaningful conversations*

beautiful memories*




all these and all that's in between...
defines me!


i have been writing diaries my whole life. i write when im upset. i write when im happy. i write just to curse and then throw it away into the bin. i write just to pass time. i just write and write and doodle away everything. writing gives away a lot of things, and gains too. what is written could be what happened or would have happened or would be happening. writing, for me, transcends time and imagination. what i am going through now could have been written long time ago, or things could have triggered the urge to write about a passion or a feeling that is non-existent. fragile and intangible things could be potrayed by poetic means in words. things like this, happens artistically in art where the mind have no complete control of, where literally derived from the soul. the unknown, translated in writings.

though i said so, my writings isnt on any level nor of any standards in the literary world. i write, merely out of need and passion- to keep my flesh and blood sane.

still,

my diaries, kept track of me growing up. those pages, have grown up together with me. in the future when i look back and see how far i have gone and how much i have written, it is when i see that treasure of immeasurable legacy that could make me travel through time; to my past, to that me, that i have come to know so well by then...