July 14, 2011
The face of an unknown woman.
I have no idea of why I chose this notebook instead of the gray one with a giraffe in a necktie.
Maybe it was the flowers.
Maybe it was the vintage look of it.
Maybe I DO like pink. (Maybe)
Regardless of the reason, the facts remain the same. I bought this notebook with the only purpose of writing.
Writing all the time, everyday, at dawn, midnight, and in my sleep.
I want every last word that sprouts from my head written and immortalized, regardless of the fact that maybe I'm unable to make sense of them myself or that they are incorrect.
I can come back and correct later.
But for now all I want is to write and to share, to exist and to witness these days.
Maybe, if I'm lucky, something amazing can sprout from this. Maybe.