existence.

"Sad stuff makes beautiful poetry, but it's not so pretty to live with." [-Merecat]
*For the Dear Diary Competition*
(I recommend anything beyond 'Tumbling Ash' for the rest is a mess of nonsense words that hold no character, no story and absently fill the page)

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43. Diary Deciding

 

I've said this before,

I know,

I know.

 

But this diary

is just not the same anymore.

 

The true realisation that this

diary

was travelling down-hill

occurred when reading Merecat's diary

(It's called Girl Half Empty, and it is stunning.

You really should read it,

the descriptions and metaphors used are

incredible).

 

The use of the words inside that diary

seemed to dance about the screen,

they were so powerful

and beautiful.

It was like each entry is a poem,

but it isn't at the same time.

Does that even make any sense?

 

I decided to read my first entry

and my latest entry,

to compare the two.

And I am so glad that I did.

 

It was shocking.

 

My description,

my adjectives,

my long stanzas,

my imagery,

gone.

 

It's been replaced with daily

updates

and who wants to read that?

 

My tone of voice is gone.

Nothing feels right,

just bland and boring.

 

But I am not giving up on this diary,

I am in far too

deep.

No, I am going to save this.

I will make it work.

 

From now on,

I will just write what comes into my head.

What I see out the window.

Anything I want to.

With longer lines,

longer stanzas,

and it doesn't matter if it comes across

random

or peculiar.

 

This diary isn't normal.

And

neither

am

I.

 

-Sunday 5th July

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