Dear Diary, 08/06/24
Usually, or probably all the time, my reason to start writing to you is either my English teacher or ...... my English teacher. They have always been the reason. To me, you have always been a project formality, or an exam question, but never a diary.
I know this isn't probably the paperback aesthetic diary stuff that I am writing on, but I like the little voices that come out when you press the keys. It's like every key has its distinguished voice, and together as you write it makes out a melody, a melody that soothes my ears.
Yeah, back to the topic. So, why am I writing to you today? Well, it for sure is not because of my English teacher, nor does it have any connections to my academics(or probably it does, just not in a testing way). I am writing to you because I think I have closed myself off too much, and it has been like this to such an extent that I am scared to open up to someone now. It isn't like I don't have friends, I do. We talk about everything -study, music, movies, dance, social issues, personal feelings, boys, poetry, etc- and it isn't like we talk on the surface, we talk deep, we both share our emotions.
No, that's wrong. Only she does.
And I tell you, it's not like she doesn't ask me about me, she does. Every time. Asks me what's going on. Complains that I never tell her stuff, when she always does. But I don't know. I just.... I just can't bring myself to.
Whatever I tell to the world, whatever lies I feed myself, I do care. I do care what people near me feel about me. I have changed so much in the past few years. And now I am scared, scared that the people I know, people who I like, oh, even love would not like my change. They wouldn't like the new me.
I am not scared to show this new side of me to strangers, I am not. It feels good to be myself around strangers, but I can't do that all the time. Because I have my sister following me around almost everywhere. My twin. Of course, we are always together. And I have started showing her my changes, and I think she accepts some of them. She never gives me a perfect reaction to determine her feelings, but the way she acts as I show her my sides is not so bad.
So, Yeah. That's why I want to write to you. To tell you about my feelings about everything, because I know you would listen. That you won't dislike me. Right?
I know that you are just a figment of me. As I type all these things going on in my mind, give those thoughts words and paper, they become real. Makes me organize my thoughts. And to be honest, understand and accept myself and my surroundings better.
I am going to publish this somewhere. Because even if you write love letters, you won't find love without someone else reading them. I need this to be out of my laptop, into the world. Or else, it will be almost the same thing as changing the bottle.
I read somewhere, whose meaning I remember as:
"What will be the use of a treasure map in a bottle that was never put out on its own sail? Will that treasure ever be found? Or will it stay deep in the ground, covered and lost in those high buildings? Will that even be considered a treasure then?
But what if it was set to sail? What if someone found the map? You might gift them a journey of a lifetime. A journey that in-self has become the treasure "
So, I promise to you, I will write to you more often now, and not for grades or stuff, but because I want to.
