My hand moves across the page, and I’m liking my own handwriting. It feels strange to like such a bad handwriting , even I’ve disliked it for so long! Nobody will remember what happened today, but I will. I’ve written it down. And sometimes I get revelations, about my now and about my past. With the help of my diary I am able to know about the monsters dwelling inside my head.
That’s when it’s exhilarating to write.