It has been sometimes since we've last spoken. The mango tree outside my window and still blows its blossoms into my room at night .The place is so unbearably hot sometimes that I feel like I might melt into my skin.
I honestly don't really know what I should write but every time I touch you I feel like if I dint write something I'll just have you here collecting dust like allot of other things in my life.
Let me tell you how this week has been.
It has been atrociously boring. Assommant. Fastidieux. Ennuyeux. I don't know French but all of that supposedly means the same. I went to school and I came home. I did schoolwork and then I slept. I woke up and went to school and the cycle only continued. School isn't a place of comfort for me but I'd rather be at school than at home.
My life at home is miserable.triste, desdichado. Misero. Horroroso. I don't know Spanish either but they ought to be accurate.
I don't really want to talk about that right now. I get easily angry whenever familial relations come up. I sometimes wish that I could grow wings and fly away. Far far away from earth and just escape all my responsibilities, my religion and just forget myself. I'm just floating around not knowing my purpose and that stress me out. What am I supposed to do? Is there a reason for me being alive? Is there even a God? Of course not. No God would put me in this position.
Our Father Who Art in Heaven, forgive me for my blasphemy, to have doubted your existences. Oh, How great and Marvelous God.
Nunquam obliviscaris, nunquam ignoscas!
Sincerely Rema, xox
YOU ARE READING
The Diary of Rema Williams
General FictionThis is the personal life story of Rema Williams. Bringing to life all her experiences from the very beginning to the end. Watch her blossom like a flower.
