Diary Buku Novels & Stories

All their earlier promises meant nothing then. -------------- Dear Diary… It is a lonely place, a dungeon, when you are locked up on your own and left alone too. I guess he has a home to return to. And I have no wolf to talk to now either. Just four walls to look at. If this is how things go, I am likely to go insane… ----------------

I myself find both women and men attractive, but the pastime of pleasuring a woman is a hard one to beat. We had finished discussing the book, but as always we took our chatter late on into the evening. The wine had clearly taken effect, as had the content of the book. Suddenly they all seemed to think it was funny to post their bums and bra clad boobs as their profile pictures, asking the rest of us what we thought the lead character would like to do to that.

I'm sure you'll know it's him when you cross parts with him* *If you find a girl or a boy(hopefully it's a girl hopefully she's lovable enough for you. You know what I mean) with the frequency, she will need the journal. Not this one. There's another journal. She probably won't be able to read it until she's ready, but when she is, the Harland collection has a companion text that describes the process. The companion text is called the Respondent. If the man has the collection, he may have the Respondent too.*

I picked it up and looked at it for some seconds before opening it The front was blank but when I opened it I read. "My personal book" was handwritten and it was Diego's handwriting. So Diego has a diary. I picked the diary up. I really wanted to take it with me but I'm sure he'll notice it's gone. How did hell am I going to read through the book and get to the bottom of this Taking my phone I quickly began snapping it. Yeah I know it's stupid but it's worth it

She was feeling amazing and excited because for the very first time, Thyago finally notices and known her existence. When she got home after class, she went straight through her bedroom. Feeling happy and inspired, she decided to make a diary of her own. Not necessarily a typical diary where she'll write about her daily living, it was more like a journal where she will write down all the kept emotions and feelings she has for Thyago. She planned to chronicle all her interactions and emotions she had for Thyago. Something inside her wanted to write and savor this feeling of happiness she has for him because if not, her heart will explode in too much excitement and joy. And there into her bedr

"Oh my God, you like her too. I have a book! I love her work." My mum has a book?! Wow! "Old school? It's not old school at all." "It is. In someway. She probably wrote that book when I was a toddler, or yet to be born. She's a reporter, you know her, right?" "I wouldn't have her name if I didn't. She's a reporter, yes, but I'm quite surprised. I didn't know she had a book." "She does. It's not fiction though. It's basically a collection of her reports from Africa. Their wars, economic crises and pandemics."

Unlike the others, it was… handwritten. Wait… is this a… journal? A diary… maybe? ‘A life with a Killer' My eye froze as soon as I read the title of the book. It was… indeed a Diary. But why does it looks so exactly like a format of a novel? My head frowns in confusion. Why is there a novel like this? It… sounds interesting but… should I read this? The fact that there are many books in this library, I can say that he just randomly asked books to fill this place…

Didn't she hide it properly? This diary was a mighty one, big and heavy. The cover was lilac, decorated with drawings of hearts and sparkles. The spine had been cracked over and over again, and the pages were unable to lay flat because of how many times they had been written inside. But it was mostly still intact. It was so big that I wondered when I would even complete the reading, it surely won't be today.

The first page was written in a neat, careful hand: "This diary belongs to Isabella Munroe." I hesitated for a moment, then flipped to the next page.I should have stopped reading. I should have given it back the next day. But I didn't. Instead, I kept it. And as I read more, something inside me shifted.

{About who and what I am, or was if I am dead, oh baby girl. "Mom? Who are you?" {About his world and my world. Oh, baby girl, I wanted you to experience as much of an everyday life as I could have given you. I know it was not much. Please forgive me. There is a diary with all the details of your Father's and my relationship, a picture of your Father, and behind it is his name and contact info should you decide you would like to meet him.