I kept a diary for some years during my middle school years. It was a "what I did today" diary like most have. It contained who I had crushes on, who showed me any special attention, and what I accomplished in that particular day. I did not talk much about my feelings, as I hadn't really learned how to unearth them from deep within me. How I looked at the world was also undiscovered back then. I liked to read about what others saw and felt and experienced, and perhaps living vicariously through those writers eventually led me to want to discover what lay buried within me.
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