As the night grows old, feeling the cool breeze gently blowing on my face. Everyone is asleep, sounds of the night, my favourite time.
It’s amazing how certain things stay with us all our lives. I have always been a night person, it’s when I am most comfortable. When there’s quiet, not a voice is heard, only the voices inside my own head. My mind seems to be working better during the quietness of the night.
I am thinking about writing a short story. Still not sure if I should or not, there’s so many talented writers out there. But, isn’t that the whole purpose, the reason why I should give it a try. More of a challenge, less likely to succeed. It has all the ingredients of an adventure. Sure, I will give it a try.
There’s still so many things that’s on my mind. I tried trying the my diary entry again, but it still doesn’t feel right. I should stick with letters to myself format.
End of diary