I arrived here two months ago. I was busy in that period, busy doing something I have to do. Now I think I have a little time spare so that I can write down my diary at last. “At last, my arm is complete again.” This was what Sweeney Todd said, which is very similar to my situation. However, I will never use a pen to write down the blood from my heart any more. Writing with a pen feels like destroying myself. I don’t want that way, too hurt, too blue.
I remember I used to burn my diary before. Because I did not like to remember something I was not able to forget, indeed. I wrote down some wrong stories which did not make any sense. Now it is the time to change. Everything gonna be OK. Tomorrow is another day. I suppose these sentences will be more important than any other ones in my following life.
I am not a memory keeper, but this is my diary, my story. People should treat it as an inexistent diary, because I have never written it by my hands. Without human hands, this diary is nothing , no matter how fascinating or freak it is. Nevertheless, just let it be that way.
I hope someday I can meet Mr.Diary and Mrs.Diary again. I hope someday someone will be waiting for me with my handwriting in her hands. I always hope, though that someone never appeared before. I am not waiting, I am hunting for her, still hunting for someone waiting for me. No faith, no respect, no complicated rules, I just hope with my diary, who is a diary of the memory keeper.I just hope and try to make a difference. Thank you, my world, thank you for giving me the difference someday.
Today I have nothing to do. So, let the diary begin. I just had a stupid class, this morning. This afternoon I will check what I have to do tomorrow and make a plan for Halloween, the weekend and next week.That is short but what a I have truly experiences without any personal sensation.
OK, keep going, buddy.This is an another start to my dear diary.