I threw it away

again, am blogging from my blackberry. and the past few times that i've been blogging from my phone consist of me laying in my room, with the lights off. usually the decision to blog stems from insomnia.. or from too much thinking, too much thoughts goin inside my head. especially at moments like these, where i would resort to creating senseless composition like these, senseless in the sense where there ain't directions, i hav no idea how this post would began, and how it is goin to end afterwards. as im texting these words..

usually this would be the case if im doin up a post from my bb. i don't have a topic in hand, so i'll just let my thoughts wander.

up till now, i've noticed that its only when i have too much thoughts inside that i would resort to blogging. it does help to ease some of it, to a certain extent. its rather like writing in a diary. speaking of which, i've been writing in journals ever since i was 8, me and a classmate, we used to write it, and exchange it for each of us to read. so its kinda like... we were actually writing it for the other person to read, not so much of writing for ourselves or to write down our deepest thoughts or secrets but more of thinking of what to write for that person to see today (we would write in it every night and show it to each other tomorrow in class)

of course, as a child back then, i couldnt make out the difference. it was all the same to me. and i didnt realise i was writing only what i thought she'll like to read, or that all that we ever wrote about was how happy we were and how the best of friends we were. to me, those were exactly what a diary should be. i dont remember much of what i wrote after that, or what she wrote. i dont remember how long our diary routine lasted either. or how it suddenly stop, was it gradual, or abbrupt?

of the things i do remember, was how that diary looked like. it has a box that holds a beautiful book inside. best of all, it had a lock with a pair of keys. a lock which could be opened merely by using a hairpin. lol.

i do remember how i felt at that time, the excitement of the prospect of exchanging diaries with a best friend. i remember that there was no unhappy thoughts inside that diary. only good and happy thoughts, of sincere wishes to the friend, and of how lucky and blessed this 8 years old kid had felt. i managed to block out all the not so happy ones, the deep secrets that i kept, and somehow when i was writing in it, only my happiness, the people that've made me happysuch as my parents and relatives, and my 'best friend' existed.