avirtualdiary

" f*ck off. "  i regret not saying these words enough times or to enough people - i read this on Instagram today.  made me think. i've always swallowed these words in front of the people i've really wanted to say it to. and the people who have been really dear to me, or were - are the ones i've wanted to say this to the most.  but it's ironic, i wouldn't say it to someone i don't care about but i can't say it to someone i just don't care about.  isn't it?

 a virtual diary.  but i already have so many physical ones.  the blue one for the poems i wrote. yellow one for the poems i read. black one for theatre. red one to write about grief. leather bound one for sketches and dried leaves. spiral notebook to plan for life. a daily planner to sort out my life - TinyChange it's called.  Atomic habits, micro changes, showing up, working on self. whatever we may call it. i'm trying to find a way through it. sometimes, i feel like i'm keeping a log of life. noting down thoughts, categorizing my experiences into personal, academic, hobbies, new learnings, reminders, work and blah blah. i am documenting at a war footing. oblivion scares me.  i look back often. what boxes did i tick in the last week. things that i was grateful for, my achievements, monthly goals and all that. i forget if i met my friend yesterday or a year ago. time is like a chewing gum. i stretch it and contract it as i like. it's a fun play. it makes me gig...