Dear diary,

*Mentioned the date, month, year on the top right corner of the page*

Most people write diaries because they want to remember events or moments. Or log their day.

But for me, I seem to have been forgetting myself.

I don't even remember how I realised it. But I remember this part.

As one would start with-

Dear diary,

I am writing to you—-and I woke up this morning and—

Rather, it should be direct, random, raw, maybe even absurd. It's not for someone else to read. It's your own personal space, an endless galaxy or void to pour your thoughts, scribbles.

*Scribbles on the paper*

*Clicking the pen with short gaps*

*Tapping the pen tip on the paper*

*Begins to write*

But why do I have to think? Journaling shouldn't be thought.

Rather, it should be direct, random—-----

Oh sh*t, I ended up writing the same thing again. The diary is too crisp and new to ruin.

*Takes a lighter out of his pocket, 2 cigarette falls along with it.*

He clicks the lighter a number of times till it lights but he doesn't take out the cigarette, instead takes the lighter to the diary. Slowly engulfing the writing, making it turn black and small holes in the burnt area.

Once he is done removing the trace of the repition. He keeps the lighter aside and begins to write again.

It's not so ugly to look at. The mistake- mishap was uglier. Unimportant things shouldn't exist in the first place as they keep reminding you of your flaws.

On the other hand, I want to know what wrong I did there, so I should note it down.

And like that he ended up writing the whole sentence again instead of just the context.

What's the point?

I was walking down the lane this afternoon after lunch when I saw this one kid throwing tantrums. The mom was getting irritated trying to hold him down. Why would I have interfered without being asked, right? But i felt bad I guess and asked if I could be of any help.

The woman without looking up spoke agreeing, ' thanks a lot.'

I held the kid from behind by his arms, restraining him. I glanced at the lady, he crimson hair stuck on her face due to sweat. I couldn't get a good view of her face, just her side face. I assumed it was a pretty face.

I was distracted in my thoughts and didn't realise my hand was bleeding. This da*n kid had bitten my hand. I suddenly had the urge to hold him tight enough to feel his bones cracking. That was to stablise him, right?

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ignore... just trying to complete 500 words now.. I wanted to make short episodes but it's not allowing me to... problematic ,💀 and still it's not 500 how muchhhh .. i just have to add 40-60 words more.