Prelude
In real life, I am hardly one who talks much about myself. Largely because I don't feel I speak very well. Sometimes expression seems more vivid through the binary, as ironic as it sounds. I don't assume everyone wants to know me, or care enough about what I have to say. Perhaps if I write it down, people can choose whether they wish to read or not.
Herein narrates the ebb and flow of my life. Many a times, I feel my heart beating faster when I write. It's such a carthartic outlet. The times I actually have to climb out of my bed to write, I will always remember. The photos I posted, I look over and over. They may mean absolutely nothing to anyone else, but these memories are all I've got. They are mine to keep. And I am thankful for friends who partake with their comments and time.
There are numerous locked entries in this journal, because I believe not all information should be openly shared. If you would like to be added, do let me know.
Thank you for viewing.
21/01/10
Herein narrates the ebb and flow of my life. Many a times, I feel my heart beating faster when I write. It's such a carthartic outlet. The times I actually have to climb out of my bed to write, I will always remember. The photos I posted, I look over and over. They may mean absolutely nothing to anyone else, but these memories are all I've got. They are mine to keep. And I am thankful for friends who partake with their comments and time.
There are numerous locked entries in this journal, because I believe not all information should be openly shared. If you would like to be added, do let me know.
Thank you for viewing.
21/01/10