That Notebook
A blog.
Yes, kind of like a diary. Except I choose to make this one public. And if you're wondering, I do keep a diary in my room. Secretly That thick notebook would get me in a world of trouble if someone ever manage to read a page of it. I'm into my second notebook now actually. I started Christmas of 2006 and I only missed two days because I was burning with a fever. It helped me a lot. It was where I vented all of my frustrations. It was where I cursed, cried, screamed, ranted, went ballistic, and laughed my heart out.
There was only a little more than five months recorded in that notebook, but I never knew a lot of things could happen in only that span of time. Or maybe I just really have an eventful year this time around. Still, when I read that notebook, I couldn't help but chastise myself for not starting sooner. It took a New Year's resolution to actually make me sit down and just write what went on during the day, although I did start earlier by a few days. Just excited I guess.
I wonder what would happen if someone finds out about that notebook. They would find out how much I resent my parents, how much I think the weather (yeah, boring) is really getting hotter than hell these days, they would find out how I have a death wish on one of my former professors. Please, the world doesn't need him. And they would find out how confused I am with my feelings for my best friend. You must be thinking 'uh oh, here it comes.' But I really am confused. A lot of stories would tell me that I'm in love, but how would I know what love is? I have never been serious with anyone before. A lot of times I ask myself if I love him but the only answer I could come up with was 'I don't know.' Not yes. Not no. But I don't know.
Got sidetracked there for a while. I was talking about the damn notebook. A lot of people would probably hate me if that notebook would ever become public because I wrote my feelings about them as I honestly could. It's not supposed to be known anyway, after all, it's a private property. It's just that recently, I have reason to believe that someone is going through the things in my room including that notebook. Or maybe I'm just a little paranoid. But I did wrote in that notebook, "I hope whoever other than me is reading this would fall down the stairs." So far, nobody has.
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