And then we began writing the diaries and i felt this weird thing. It's like i want to write more but my hands are too tired to encrypt more words into that piece of blank paper waiting to be filled. My head was filled with ideas to write. I don't care if people would read it, i just want to write more. That's the point when i really appreciated writing, that blank paper does something a person can't do; it would be willing to accept all your shit and never give a damn. I was so attached to writing that at one time i was crying (idk what happened then, some random shit maybe) i grabbed my notebook (diary) and i think i wrote every bad word i knew. And when i was done, the paper was like "You done with your shit you emotional cunt?" Then i was "No you fucktard!" And then the paper was like "Fine, go ahead, fill me with your shit you twat."
And then we passed our diaries and somehow my diary got its way into the hands of the school publication and asked the editor-in-charge (my classmate)for me to join the club. So i was extremely overwhelemed that my irrelevant ass got known so i said yes and i wrote a couple of feature articles for the publication. Heck i even joined a competition once but failed miserably due to the lack of experience and guts and brain cells. But i enjoyed every part of it. Made me love writing even more.
After that i really wanted to make a blog but i was like "Ugh just write on a damn paper". So i didn't, well not until now.
But the thing that really pushed me aside from my love of writing is that i found Camps blog a few moments ago so i hope you're reading this Camps 143! Lol. I have a crush on a muddafaking blogger too! But unfortunately, his first and only blog was 4... FOUR years ago. That's ages ago. Well what ever. As long as i'm writing (typing) i'm happy. Cheers!
-Ian
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