Diaries.And Memories.

I used to write diaries. Since I was in Form 1. And every time I went back home, I’ll read them back. It’s funny. Hilarious to some extent. Perhaps only to me. Because I am the only person reading them. That’s why they are called diaries. Lol.The window to the deepest darkest secrets. Although my worst deepest darkest secrets don’t involved killing anyone. Hehe. Hence, I often compared them to my writing nowadays. How I was so carefree and so informal. When I was young, I used to be one of the unknowns. Still is anyway. But worse back then. I regarded myself as a very insecure, world-hater girl. I hated the popular crowds at school because they think they were so cool they could look down on people. I guess more or less, every school has the same situation, all over the world. There’s the good looking (even if some of them don’t, but they have something to back them up: joker, athlete, rich. Choose any of the categories) look-at-me type of students and the other crowd: the nerd, weird and unknowns. The last one, that’s me. I was no geek (although I did look like one during my childhood and youth hood), I don’t think I’m weird enough (hip hop, skinny jeans, punk) so there I was: normal and unknown. Although my friends, even best friend was quite popular for different reasons (pretty, boyfriend(s) was popular, brilliant), I was used to being neglected. So I developed a fondness of pen down my thoughts and feelings. Where I can escape the real world when it seems harsh and lonely. I find strength in words, in philosophies, thus reflected in the skema-ish type of writing. I’ve tried writing fiction (as that was one category of writing I got praises from my English teacher at school) but I got writer’s block every time I wrote a fiction. And I’ve cancelled publishing them (on blog of course) because I thought they were so phony. And corny. I wrote a 20 something pages of a fiction and I ended up losing them to recycle bin (for reasons I can’t quite remember). So that was my biggest self accomplishment in writing. I envy those who are so creative in writing because I think I’m not. See, the insecurity and feeling of unknown stuck with me for a very long time. Although I find myself in a better me nowadays. I am more optimistic towards life. And more confident. However, I still love observing people; that’s my all-time favourite past time. Now, when I came across a group of hot guys and girls, I wouldn’t be so quick to judge. “Maybe they were unknowns just like me once upon a time. We grew up to be the better image of our childhood. Life is not that cruel anyway.” And writing in diaries helped a lot. I love you, my diaries, Snoopy! =D