DAY 1
Dear Diary...
Just so we’re clear, as I pen this down I’m not really sure what exactly I’m about to write. Woke up this morning, got water, entered the toilet and as I sat on the toilet seat —of course while doing so business, barely mine, if you know what I’m saying— I had this idea.
"Have a Dear Diary"
Now, I’m like ’Woah’, or not, don’t get wrong. But it’s just basically having a ’dear diary’ book, on Webnovel, maybe I’m supposed to sulk here or sothing, but I guess I’ll know as I go.
Quite the thing don’t you think? The whole ’as I go’ thing, I an, one mont you want to be in charge of your life, then later, or ’as you go’ you discover, it mostly is really an ’as you go’ movent.
Your A’s don’t add up, your B’s look like a joke, and before you know it, you don’t even get the regular thoughts of "You wouldn’t make it" or "You wouldn’t succeed", it literally begins to sound more like "It’d be a joke, bothering with things to cook you up with".
I don’t even know if that was supposed to be funny.
You know there’s also this talk of "No one’s coming to save you". Just think about it, you’re in a tight spot, or maybe pondering on whatever it is that flys into your mind that mont, or sothing that’s been bothering you, the cliche being, you know, your life not going as planned, and you really need that nudge or a little help talk or just an "I’m here for you" sorta sothing, and BOOM, you’re on soone’s status and you’re seeing "No one’s coming to save you"
And you’re like —with a eh face of course, because you’re probably already exhausted— "Jeez... " And sothing in your head wants to be like "I already know" but then, it don’t really add up.
I need that help, I an I get the whole "Stand up and do sothing" the whole "Be diligent and consistent, and being on the go". Yeah, all this. But still, I want help. I’m not saying I want to be useless — I an we’re already on that battle— but my heart wants to know I’m not alone, even my brain seems to need it.
I believe in God by the way. And yes, even though there’s the God factor, I still do want soone to say, you can do this — even if I’m not sure what I’m doing. Maybe just a word to feel alive or useful.
Funny...now I’m sulking.
Alright... Let’s try this again.
Dear Diary
I have a na, and I’m 24. Funny story. Once upon a ti, you know, I’m November-born. So once upon a ti, or many atis upon this once, I never spare any mont in arguing with people, about how as long as I’ve crossed into a year, be it the January, I’m a fully fledged—urm this is the point where I’m looking for the right word, I think I’ve ssed up my entire sentence line up — ’Yearer’. That barely made sense.
Arguing and dragging whenever I was asked my age —even though I was way far from my birth month — was a norm for , and a thing of joy.
So we’re in 2016 and you ask my age, or the most common one, my big sis rubbing it, or trying to rub it on my face how much older than she is. Now I’m a year behind whatever year we’re in, so 2016 I’m supposed to be 15, or at least 15 when we hit November. But never, when have I ever agreed to such mistreatnt and ’misconduction’ of my age right?
So technically and obviously and ’whateverly’ I would never agree to be 14, I’d say I’m 15, so long as we’ve entered January, or let’s say I try to be considerate, then I’ll wait perhaps till March, but that’d be a long wait, but if it does happen then I wasn’t paying much attention that year.
But you know what’s the funny thing now Dear Diary...?
I’m 24, but I barely say that out loud. I now try to be 23 for as long as I can be, till November hits and makes have no other choice, but to be 24.
And you know what’s the sorta scary thing? Is that I’m moving, and yet I don’t see what I’m doing.
Of course if ’life’ went the way I thought It’d have gone, I’d have been graduated by now. Of course there’s no telling what would have happened afterwards, seeing how ’life’ likes showing itself. But if the script kept playing out, I would be on my flying horses.
But guess what, and I say ’guess what’ with laughing — of course I can’t laugh out loud or too loud, cause it past 12 right now, and I’m not alone, story for another day— , well guess what... I’m just starting Uni or College, whichever makes you feel funky, or funky, and what’s really funny is —you haven’t still guessed but— I’ve eaten my school fees.
Haha, I’m really laughing right now, you wouldn’t believe it. I an, as if life hasn’t been life enough, I finally get into school, and I wonderfully ate my school fees. Like the entire thing, urm Three Hundred and Twenty Thousand K .
And now here’s the thing, I have to raise it or get it soonest or I probably won’t be able to continue, and no, there’s no student loan option, cause I’m not even a student yet.
Haha. But please don’t get wrong I’m not that sort of person. You know the type you’ve probably painted out to be just now.
There’s a story behind each of these things, being barely a student yet, eating the fees — but then thinking about it, I don’t even think student loan think might work in this school, oh boy.
Well I’ll get to everything, hopefully, ’as we go’ , but I had a target of a thousand word, and I’ve hit it, and I’m tired, also I think I have a movie to catch before bed. I hope I pray tonight.
So Dear Diary, I’ll see you tomorrow, and I also have a book I’m working on, I’ll talk about it ’as we go’ I guess, so as...we...go...
DAY 2
Hey Diary...
Funny thing how I sorta mix ’diary’ and dairy’, good thing I noticed — you would have identified as a milk.
Urm... It would have been lovely to be like, "Hey Diary" or "Dear Diary, I would like to tell you how my day went."
"I woke up this morning in my lovely bed, I’m grateful to God for life. I had the heater on, and bathed in my jacuzzi. After applying my relaxing and moisturizing cream, I sat on my deep dark colored massaging chair, for a relaxing and lovely section, before dressing up and getting into my day’s matching car — it had to match my tie."
"Driving off the garage, the normal busy road was surprisingly free, thank God for answered prayers— and to think it was just a side prayer— let’s not forget I had my ’ and God’ section, before leaving the bed. The morning sun was barely out and I could feel the beauty the day already had for "
And on and on, or probably sothing similar. But Muahahaha, co on, it’s we’re talking about, I don’t even know how to drive.
Don’t get wrong, I’m not saying this isn’t possible, but then, that barely even looks like what I’d call a waking morning, and I hate cars— as if I wasn’t weird enough. I wouldn’t say I hate hate cars, I just get car sick, yeah I hate traveling too — hmm, hate’s a strong word, so I’ll settle for "don’t enjoy".
Growing up, entering public transports made sick, and all ’pukey’, I’d get sick and throw up everywhere. With ti, or if put well, currently, I just get drowsy, and faintly nauseous. And you’d think it’s only public transports. The bad news buddy?— private cars are not spared, especially if the windows are closed and the A.C turned on, straight up death sentence, sorta.
So that, definitely don’t look like my waking morning.
Okay, so this is what’s on play now though, and you know funny enough, I don’t know if it’s cause of my style — natural style— or sothing else. To compensate for my dislike for travels, I don’t even like coming out. I basically love my indoor space.
Ahem... Reports reaching my ears, are that, I’m living on the boring side of life. So basically or ’whatevercally’ so opinions suggest, my life is boring. But how can you say that ?— I an my next point might not sound very convincing, coming from a guy who’s talking to his Diary, but no way, that’s not the case.
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