Okay so I Googled myself. I am glad this blog does not show up. Only my instagram and twitter pop up. Good. Good. Although in a way, I am curious if someone found this diary. Such someone is also fond of reading my musings. There has to be one out there. I fantasise about getting a random intergalactic message. Do I sound I want to connect with another like-minded being/s out there? Perhaps. I have nobody to tell my crazies to. Oh wait, I barely tell my crazies to anybody since... ever. They seep through trusted friends unknowingly, but. Friends who know that I am weird actually.
Putting this version of my train of thoughts on the Internet is inspired by my housemates and friends, particularly Mayet. She borrows my diary on a regular basis. She either knock early morning or late in the evening, asking if I have a new entry. My heart flutters. Someday my diaries or excerpts of them would be a classic like Anais Nin's. I never read her books, but I want the regal timeless attention and discussions of both her mind and experiences. Wouldn't that be just great? But then, I like to keep the mystery at the same time.
And so, I am sharing this as much as I am not really doing so. Does that make sense? Also, this is closest to being published. Not to rain on my own parade, but I am writing for my self. I am my own audience. Then again, a tiny bit of me is wishing someone, a certain someone, or just anybody, could find the colourful sparks in my inner workings. I need such kind of tribute, or I believe so. Whatever.
Email me LOL,
sCielo(at)gmail(dot)com