Thoughts Diary Novels & Stories

Maybe not everything, maybe not enough to ruin me yet—but enough to remind me how precarious all of this was. My steps home blurred, every face in the crowd suddenly suspect. My apartment felt less like shelter and more like glass walls waiting to be shattered. I dropped my bag on the table and pulled out my notebook, flipping through the pages. Names, dates, sensations scrawled in my messy hand. The evidence of everything I’d been. He was right. Diaries beg to be read. But maybe… maybe they can also be rewritten.

Thought asks warily. “I went through a faze where all I wanted to do was write. It was when no one believed me that you existed, and my sister saw me as mentally ill. I wrote so much I somehow forgot almost everything I put down on the page, which has never happened to me before,” I tell him, my voice raising with every word out of my mouth. He tilts his head, visibly confused.

Be the real you. -+-+-+-+-(-++-+--+(+-++--++--++--++--- Dear Diary, Today was a very significant day in my life. The day for which I was procrastinating since I was born, the day which dared to change everything for me. The day brought me utter contentment and brutal discomfort. The day when I was weeping and cackling The day which gave me wings to fly and a stab in my back The day which makes me regret it all the time.

There's still a lot to do today in preparation for your third wedding anniversary tomorrow with Lobo, not to mention the preparations that need to be made for the banquet. Wait, what?" Do you mean to say that the banquet is tomorrow? "Well, yes, don't you remember?" The dagger had pierced my chest so forcefully that I reached up and placed my palm there, but there was no visible damage. Maybe everything that had happened was just a dream. I promptly hopped out of bed and went directly to my desk, pulling my diary from the drawer. This journal helped me immensely with day-to-day life management. I kept track of official events and pack-related activities in there, as well as my mood and a sum

I needed to pen down my thoughts because that was the only way I could go to bed peacefully without thinking too much. I opened the diary with my ink pen and boldly scribbled. “Dear diary, today was shit. Iris had proposed we had sex or else she would kill Natalie.”

I wave him goodbye, he checks his noodle hair in the mirror and leaves. There is not much work. There is never much work. I sit in front of the laptop and check my F******k account. F******k is boring when you’re dating the prettiest girl there will ever be. I don’t want to, but I still end up doing what I’ve been avoiding since morning. I fetch the diary from my drawer and open it. RD.

I jumped out of bed quickly and headed straight to my desk, picking my diary up out of the drawer. This diary was invaluable in managing my day-to-day life. I recorded my mood daily and a summary of the events of the day, I also kept track of official functions and pack-related affairs in there so I didn't forget a single thing. Every morning I wrote a list of the things that I needed to do that day. I turned to the page that should have held the list that I clearly remembered writing as soon as I woke up on the eve of my anniversary, but the page was blank.

Some fear it. And some — like Ravi — deny it. I started keeping a diary. Not for the usual entries about daily chores or college notes. But for feelings. Sometimes I wrote about the way my body felt after those secret moments at night. Sometimes I wrote letters — unsent — to Ravi, begging him to see me, to want me. Sometimes I wrote fantasies — ones I didn’t even know I had. Each word bled emotion. Each page carried the weight of years of suppression.

** Three days has passed since I arrive here at the resort and now I’m thinking what do I really want for myself… I seem to forget what I really want… when I went here what I wanted was to clear my mind but that seems to be not working at all. I’m now talking a morning walk as I admire the sunshine and later on sit on the sand and watch it as it come out from the water. I smile, sunshine or sunset makes my heart race and I know exactly the reason why… it’s always him, there’s nothing new. I decided to keep a diary. For an unknown reason after writing a letter to Luke, I know find myself finding a pen and a paper and write all my thoughts and address it to him like everything is okay between

A diary! Does she write diaries? Impressive. I was suddenly curious to know about her. What she wrote there. I opened the first page and was met with a not so clear handwriting but it was beautiful, "Hey dear diary, from now on you are my only friend as no one wants to talk with me because of my stuttering problem." The mention of the stuttering problem gave me goosebumps. It felt familiar!! HER thoughts came to mind. My hands tightened on the diary.