Tiny Ink Blots [Diary]

When there is a blot on paper, you cannot remove it until you wash it away. When you have some memories, you cannot forget them until your soul gives up. These are my blots of memories on a sheet of paper. This is my diary.


2. An intro after the intro

6 May, 2015                                                                                                                                                   9:23 pm 


There are some days we regret the most. Then are those days we cannot forget. Isn't it weird how life works? A moment ago I was just an ordinary girl with no ambitions, but now? Now I am someone with only one ambition. I won't mention it now but yeah I have my ambition. A moment ago I was Nishi Sonder. Now I am some girl named Mercury Chap who I was never aware had a single talent. It's just a matter of moment, that's all. Moments pass by and all that remains is memory. Memories of dreams, ambition, of happiness, gloom, of life's best moments, of sadness, of tears... Just a moment ago I was nothing. Now? I am something, I just have to figure out what. 

I always considered myself as a person with high a level of imbecility. I was stupid. I knew nothing and I am not shy to admit what's true. I have changed a lot and these changes brought some memories with it. I have always been silent one. I have always had the urge to tell my memories and my experiences to someone. I had no one until I finally did. My imbecility was vanished but yes, still a meager part of it stays with me because eventually it's hard for conventions to completely disappear from the world. It was something new for me and something different. It had been in front of me all those years but I just foolishly kept on walking by it, blindly, not even noticing it. It was everywhere. It was a book; the beginning of all my adventures. 

I was eight when I first felt like writing a story but then the thought just flew out of my mind into a mere oblivion. Then on book came into my life. 

It was my sixth grade and I wasn't fond of reading. In fact, I wasn't fond of anything except for drawing until even that part of me soon vanished like steam. It was my last day before the summer holidays and the last period of that day was Library. Surrounded by a thousand books, I never tried to discover what lied beneath them. My friend that day encouraged to read something or issue something from the library so that I could read it in the holidays. Not so interested but being a little comedian I randomly picked up the fattest book from the shelf. I read out the title loudly to my friend, "The Black Beauty" Just trying to make an ironic moment I started to read it and at the end of the period I issued it from the library. Not that I was all of a sudden interested in reading some fat-book, it's just that Black Beauty was a part of my childhood. I read one of the "kids" version of Black Beauty when I was six and literally cried. It was just the inquisitiveness to know if that fat book would make as great an impact the little book Black Beauty did. But then I didn't know one thing: a beautiful book always makes you cry. 

Yes, I cried a lot when Black Beauty dies and I, being someone who loathed the idea of reading, read its last page again and again for, I don't know, fifty times maybe. That was the first time I ever fell in love. I fell in love with the book Black Beauty and that was when I got to know that you don't need a boy to love. You can fall in love with just reading a mere set of words. Words are these ordinary looking patterns. They are just like wizards who look like normal people but then no one knows about the powers they hold until we try to explore their minds. Words are magic and words saved my life.

I had no one to talk to, but then I had words. I bought a diary from the store. I wrote everything that has happened with me and I felt better than I had ever felt before. It became a habit until I stopped again. I started to write stories. Actually I realised that I had the ability to write stories when I was once, like always, was talking to myself. Several scenes were coming up in my mind and I felt the need to record them somewhere. So I wrote them down in the worst kind of broken English possible. I was twelve when I started to write stories but then I didn't properly know how to speak in English. I mean, there were only some people of my age who were like scholars in English (according to a twelve year old) and I was nothing. I made a lot  of grammatical mistakes. But then I learned. I started to read more and more books and then I became one of the book lovers. Well writing at that time was so much fun but still I wasn't that much good at it. Not until I found Movellas. 

The reason I joined Movellas was that I was completely attracted by The Fault In Our Stars and Divergent fan-fictions. I had the desire to read more of it and so I joined it. Then I, being a casual writer, wrote my first movella here just to check what happens and Eva84 (I don't remember if that was the number at the end) was the one to comment on it. I was elated. I got the confidence to write more. Then day by day I got better, and also started to write poetry too (which used to be something impossible for me to write). So in my ninth grade, I again started to write my diary and wrote my thoughts about writing. 

Well, creepy person reading this, this was just an intro of how I really got into all of this amazing stuff. I know most people won't care about it but this is something very important to me. I don't care if someone thinks this is lame or useless because I know that for me it matters a lot. Well then the next time I write this diary I am going to tell what is actually happening in my life. :P And yes, I am going to use emoticons. (Mwahahahahaha)

Your chimp, 

Mercury Chap

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