When I was much younger, I wanted to become a
writer and I filled in all the blank pages that I saw. I learnt new words and
ways of writing but never thought of putting my mind to writing a journal down.
What I feel is that may be, I lacked the determination that was needed to
publish a book or create one. But every day was filled with reading books that
was of interest to the self with plenty of pages that contained my thoughts.
Now, I still have words with me and the urge to
fill blank pages with them. I wonder at life’s decisions and whether I have
taken them right. Most of the time, I struggle with life and memory and words
but when good memories come to my mind, I scribble them down into some pieces
of fiction and that is what has been on my mind lately. Though these thoughts
might be good or bad, I started a journal to scribble about them.
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