Thoughts Diary Novels & Stories

"Looks more like old single papers than a diary." "A single paper has multiple entries and they don't have dates just thoughts," I said going and sitting at the chairs facing the back forest that was outside. Reading where I left off: For them to be with me, them to be mine and to be theirs fully. I don't know if I'll ever see Sarin again, I feel like it's my duty to at least know where he is.

And the idea that someone else might be manipulating or watching us made my mind spiral. I got up and went to my window, staring out at the quiet suburban street. Cars passed by slowly, kids on bicycles waved to neighbors. Everything looked normal. Everything should have felt safe—but the messages had broken that illusion. My diary had been my place of honesty, my sanctuary. The thought that someone could know everything I’d ever written…my deepest, most private thoughts…made me shiver. I opened it again, skimming my recent entries. He’s mine. I love him. I’ve never felt like this before. I paused at the words. My fingers trembled on the page. Could someone really be reading these? Watching

Above all I did not want him to vent his anger on me, so, preferred going for the safe side. I stormed back into my room while blushing in the corridor. My cheeks were pink thinking about the intimate moment between the two of us. That was what had occupied my mind at that time. I open the closet and took out my diary. Yes, diary! I liked maintaining journals. My diary had records of sweet and sour experiences of my life. I extended my mind there. Well, it had been quite a few days since I had not written anything in it. My diary helped me grow personally and captured events that passed by instantly.

Sky POV I should have burned that diary. That thought had crossed my mind a thousand times since the first night I wrote about him. The professor. My mind had been overflowing. The tension was too much not to document I told myself it felt wrong not to acknowledge this feelings since I couldn’t tell anyone about it Of course I had friends, but not friends friends that you could really tell things to, so it was more that I was alone with this feeling too good to be true, so of course I wrote.

The familiar scent of vanilla mixed with cinnamon hit my nostrils as I moved towards her bed while taking in her room. The last time I was here, I was so busy indulging in whatnot that I couldn't take it all in but now it is different. The room was extremely neat just as i expected it to be. “A diary” I muttered examining the book I picked up from her bed, lying open with a pen beside it. My brows deepened in thoughts as i read her entry for today, 20th May 2020 “Dear diary, all I want to talk about is HIM, I simply cannot get him off my head,he is all I think of every now and then, what am I supposed to do?....” I read softly aloud.

I asked her and then walked off. I went to my room and got ready for dinner but something that Jasmine said clicked to me in the shower. Is it just me or do all of us get our best ideas while showering? Katherine was always writing something in a journal. If I am not wrong, maybe it will have her feelings and thoughts before she passed away. I will be able to read into her mind, and what happened before she died. But where am I going to find her diary? “You have been lost in your thoughts again,” Logan said and I looked at him.

🖱️Victor🖱️ The diary sat in my hand like it was alive, breathing, watching me, judging me, and the blue fire wrapped around my fingers didn’t burn anymore, it just existed like it belonged there, like it had always been waiting for me to notice it. I stared at it for a long time, longer than I should have, my thoughts drifting somewhere I had been trying very hard not to go. Jayden.

After hesitating for a while, he flipped open the diary to take a peek. It was a typical diary with many scribbles and writings. Gently flipping through the pages, he read the first few lines on the first page of the diary. 12-10-2020 So the doctor asked me to try to keep a journal and write down my personal feelings. Don’t know how that’s going to help but here goes nothing. Getting confused, Alex flipped through the pages, skimming through similar scribbles of how his day went and how his life was going in general. One thing was constant through the pages and it was how he kept on mentioning Alex.

I wanted more. At three-thirty on a Wednesday morning, I sat at my kitchen table and picked up the pen and pad of paper with shaking hands. Images of my dreams flashed through my mind. Even though I sat alone in my kitchen, my cheeks flushed with embarranusment. A good woman didn’t have thoughts like this. A good woman didn’t sit at her kitchen table, thinking about what kinds of crazy sex she secretly dreamed of having with people she didn’t even know. What the hell is the matter with me? I thought. I’m just writing down thoughts. I don’t even have to show them to anyone. I can have fantasies. I can write them down.

Dear Diary My life has become a dry spell. I don’t know what I want. I am not a moody bitch, neither am I a badass. I was a good girl, so still, I am a good girl. I am tired of playing victim. I know, I know life has led me here, but I don't know one thing, why I could not satisfy this society, not this society, but any society. Maybe I don’t belong to any society. I belong to no one. I am me, a person who has got nothing but space in her. A voice in my mind says so, Saliha, no one is responsible for your actions, no one but you. Do I? Whenever I make myself calm by telling myself so, I feel like a rebel, but can slaves be subversive? They do? Here my thoughts got stuck. I don’t know what it