I’ve re-dicovered an old “friend”, my paper diary.

I’ve been writing on and off since I was ten. When I was thirteen I started writing regularly, filling a notebook or so every year. I’d write more often when I was sad, cos when I was happy I was usually busy doing something that made me happy, but I’d still write. Sometimes I’d write several pages in one day, and sometimes I could go weeks without writing anything. More after the jump.

Now I’ve gone two years and hardly written anything. I can blame the Internet for that. I started writing online instead so my old papery friend started collecting dust instead of my thoughts. When I moved to my aunt’s place I collected the things I thought I might need and found my diary and let it come along.

Saturday I have a friend and co-worker over for dinner. He stayed longer and boyfriend also turned up. They seemed to get along and I had a lot of thoughts running through my head. Usually I’ll write here or on some of my other blogs, but this time the computer was occupied by my friend and my boyfriend. So I picked up my diary and started writing. That day I wrote one page. Yesterday I wrote seven pages. (One page is about sixty to eighty words)

In my paper diary I can write more freely since I know it is only for me. The Diary will in no way stop me from writing here, since I use them for completely different purposes. The Diary is for my personal thoughts and the blog is for writing about my life, venting, writing about stuff that happens and anything and everything really. The Diary is for stuff I don’t even want to admit to myself. It’s poorly structured writing and very rambling.

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