I used to have a diary when I was in secondary school. I wrote everything in it (well, it’s a diary), people I met, things I do, functions in school, football matches, badminton games, TV programs, songs, MTV, girls, those I met and those I had crushes on. The more decorated entries would have to be the ones on the romantic crushes. Because as teenagers, romances had a very forceful way of occupying each and every part of your thoughts, days and nights. When it came to crushes, I could be so creative - poems, sketches, scenes of happily-ever-after, even love songs!
My diary wasn’t one that had a lock on it. Although I did keep it locked up in my drawers. But, however painfully careful I was trying to be secretive about it, I did let it out once in a while out of forgetfulness. And I could remember getting into a huge fight with my brother once, when he read through my diary when it was lying around on my table. It was such a huge fight. We didn’t talk for almost a month after that, even though we slept in the same room. I could never figure out why he couldn’t understand that diary was private matter, meant for the writer, and the writer only, nobody else.
But, nowadays … Well, if you’re reading this, you should have already got my point.
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