For anyone who don't know back in secondary school I've been an avid writer, of my own personal confidential diaries. Or which I always referred to as journal, because diary sounds so... girly, and personal ahahahh. I would walk around with a notebook clipped with my mechanical pencil in hand, and will write an entry while waiting for classes to start.
So the last night I was at home, I opened back a few of my diaries. Just to reminisce a particular someone, honestly. But of course I would also read the normal days, the days where the person is not even mentioned.
You know how some movies open with the main character scrambling around in hurry in the morning? Some of my diaries started with just that kind of entry, because my then-room in boarding school woke up 5 minutes before inspection.
It was nice reading back, I'm glad I wrote back then. Some entries I can no longer remember it happened, even what I wrote down do not bring up the days. But some other reminded me of that days I no longer remember, the words make the memories somewhat vivid. Suddenly I remember how the skies look like on that particular time, the littlest facial expression. Some days are also ugly that when I read and remember that it was ugly I skipped the pages.
It feels like a form of time traveling, by the way, except that I can only travel back. And it also feels like a time capsule whenever I write down my prayers, wishes, hopes, and aspirations, except that it is not buried down in earth, but rather they were written down.
It is nice seeing back things. Erikson's psychosocial stages and Kohlberg's moral stages seem somewhat obvious too 😂
Apapun I hope I will continue to write, though
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