Diary

 

  I found myself thinking today that I do not write more in a day as before ... I mean, how did life. I always liked it, but one day I just hate the commitment of having to write something every day, even though I had nothing to say ... Because I felt strange leaving a huge gap between the days when there was nothing to write, then just stopped writing daily ... And they were just poems, essays, thoughts, stories, and whatever else I wanted to write. But today, I found myself thinking that I did not write more like a diary before and might be better to do it again, before I explode, because I walk through crowded other words. You know, in my trash phase, this was the only thing that made me feel better. In my stage "rebel beyond measure," that was the only thing that brought me a sense of understanding ... It's kinda strange, since technically I'm saying something to myself ... But, as I once heard, even when you write daily, in the background is the hope that one day someone will read and find interesting, or at least find you and read too crazy for wanting to know how the story ends ... hahahaha One day I want to find someone's diary. But do not think I would have the courage to read ... I mean, if it were lost and some day old and already finished, but maybe I read ... I would not mind if they read my old diary, after all, what does has nothing to do with me ... But if they read a diary today (if I had one), I would be very angry.My first diary was 7 years old. I got an aunt. It was a tiny diary, Snoopy, which I wore today, finish it in two days ... hahahahaha I am the maniac words. And you know what's weird? Every time I started a new everyday, always began the same way: "My name is Carolina ... I have so many years ... I was born in this place ... My parents are separated ... I love this musical artist .. . I love my makeup ... My best friends are ... My favorite book is ... I hate that person ... My address is this ... My phone is another ... My zodiac sign is Taurus ... " And so on. Always started like this. Or, begin counting on the beginnings of my life: my parents were crazy to have married in two months of dating and perhaps because of this they split ... He spoke very well of my brothers, I was very attached to them ... He talked about boys that I was supposedly interested or passionate, or just speak ill of the same ex ... hahahahaha This is more my face. My friends, my school days, how many children I would have ... After I was growing up, the issues have changed, but the bottom were passed in the same locations. It's funny how we can change that, nowadays I do not even know if I have children, childhood and said he would have three. Also I do not know if I'm going to marry, and marry, have almost total certainty that I will not stay married to the same person all your life ... How I've changed.At that time I did so, writing daily and it comforted me, but nowadays I do not know if it would be enough to comfort me and do not even have to do with me. Probably no more. Do not see myself doing it more. Occasionally, when I go in my mom's house, still caught some and read, and I'm laughing in my face ... God how I was retarded ... I'm still a little, but in a different way ...Some features never die, and me, they are what form our essence. I've wanted to get rid of all my papers, a million times, just get rid of all that old stuff, but just can not, I am wedded that old stuff, do not know why ... As I say I'll never stop writing, anyway ...I think in the end it here eventually becoming a lost diary page ...