...a discovery...

I’m a guy who doesn’t like surprises. Rather I don’t like the idea of something not in my control. You might call this my vulnerability but I don’t fight it. But some surprise packages are meant to make you nostalgic. Surprises I discovered that I actually like. My diary, which I had lost for more than 10 years was discovered by my mom. It was hiding from me all these years locked away in a trunk in the cupboard built over the bathroom door- a poor example of architecture, I daresay. I opened the dusty diary to find my childhood self. My innocent but disturbed self 12 years ago. I scribbled whatever came to my mind that time and most of it didn’t make sense but some of it does, in a weird way. I don’t know how close I was to my dark self those days but the words seem to imply something than what is written. An unspoken plea to be heard, or perhaps to be noticed at all. Henceforth, I’ll post some of the scribbles in the diary which can be extracted from the half eaten remains...