It has been a long time
Since I sat so late at night like that
Opening my Dear Diary… to write…
Am sitting there and in front of me I can see the gardens
And I can feel the breeze of the air touching my skin
Listening to my lovely songs
Feeling it’s a mood to draw or write
Smelling the air it’s like a smell of something burning with the smell of flower
How can I put it I feel it’s lovely
Listening to everything around
Birds singing… and if I concentrate a little I feel like am hearing the sound of the leaves of the trees dancing…
I always wished to be a singer and play piano or guitar
But I couldn’t because am too shy and I don’t think my voice is good too J
I loved drawing so much that I wanted to travel around the world and be a photographer and painter and because I love to collect pictures too… I wanted to paint feelings and take pictures of beautiful things that can’t be described by words things that most of us can’t see
And at last I wanted to become a writer who writes beautiful things that touch anybody heart
And make it melt… I wanted my writing talk to everyone who read it and make them feel comfortable like they are not alone but even how much I try I seem to never be able to do so…
I feel I can’t express the feeling right with words so how am going to be able to touch any person heart…
But I keep on writing anyway because it makes me feel at ease…
All my wishes and dreams seemed so far away every time I try to come closer to it…
So I just sat there and admire them and watch them from far away
And try from time to time to remember them
When am setting with a piece of paper in my hand and a pen I try to draw what comes first in my mind
And when am watching picture in the net that I like I collect them
I know am far away from doing what I really want
But I feel sometimes that I really don’t know what I really want…
And even if I know I know I can’t have them… so inside of me I feel like I have given up
While am still lying to myself and say I didn’t
My life is far away from what I imagined it to be all my dreams and goals and everything I thought about when I was young nothing of it happened…
Am living a different life… and that I don’t want talk about because it make me sad…
So here I come to live my dreams that I can’t have them and write about them
But I can’t write about reality because it hurt so much
I can write about it when it’s from the past or when am so desperate or sad and can’t find any one to talk to except those things let’s not talk about it now…
Yours: AmyBadr
4:34 AM 25-5-2012
