I have kept a diary for almost eight years. The so-called diary is actually talking to yourself and talking nonsense. It's not like some people think that primary schools must hand in weekly diaries. From getting up in the morning to going to bed at night, it is a running account. How boring.
If I have to find a reason to "persist" for so many years, it is probably because I am too lonely, too distressed and too depressed. I hope someone can talk to me.
At first, because I read too many books that I "shouldn't" read at that age, I was unbearable, depressed and my temperament changed greatly. I saw a dream of red mansions. As I said, I haven't read A Dream of Red Mansions, but I haven't read The Three Kingdoms. Nobody told me that at that time. After reading A Dream of Red Mansions, I can't extricate myself from the Grand View Garden. Some people say that every woman can find her role in the Grand View Garden. I like each other, but my role should be Qingwen. It's not that I have Qingwen's beauty and skillful hands, but that "my heart is higher than the sky and I'm mean". I have never been in the mainstream, but I have always been a young man in Form 2.
My temperament has changed a lot, from a lively little girl to a gloomy girl. People around us can't stand this change, especially my mother, so there are endless quarrels and cold wars between us. And I don't like the teachers and classmates around me. I have always been a person with few friends. A depressed person is inevitably lonely. When he wants to talk to people except reading, he can only talk to himself, just want to talk to himself. This is what I call "internal demand". Keeping a diary has become my necessity, a rigid demand.
Then I met the first person I liked in my life, the first disaster. After he left, I kept a diary more frequently. I often stay up late to keep a diary. Every night, the whole family slept, and the night was quiet. I sat in front of the desk by the window, listening to the rustling leaves outside the window, turned on a desk lamp and wrote down what I wanted to say to him that I couldn't see the light. Therefore, I have always felt that a diary is something that has been dying of exposure.
In this way, my love and deep yearning for him "supported" me to keep a diary for the next seven years. I don't know how much I can like a person, nor how long I will like him. It doesn't matter. Anyway, I don't like anyone except him. A little sad.
We haven't been in touch for three or four years. I hope you have a good life, so that you can live up to my interruption. You don't know how hard I tried and how much I wanted to tell you so that I wouldn't bother you.