My life has been pretty stressful lately. I’m a teenager with secrets that I keep private. It’s hard to keep my secrets inside me and not burst out and spill the beans. I am thankful that I can write my words down on this diary page and release all my thoughts. I love all the blank, lined pages and how each line is waiting to be told a secret. I can’t talk to anyone of my friends like I talk to my diary. Yes, I love my best friends and I trust them with anything I tell them, but my diary is like a close friend that I can connect with and spill all my secrets and thoughts to and it will never tell a soul. A lot of people don’t keep diaries, but they don’t realize how great they can be. Diaries are vaults that let you pull out all your thoughts in secret and close them up with a lock, so no one can break in. My parents catch me in lies and my brothers tell on me, so I cherish my diary because it’s the only object I can fully trust. I’ve been keeping a diary for about a year now. It releases all the stress in my life and it takes me to my own little world. Life for me, especially lately, is frustrating. My mom doesn’t trust me about anything and she is the only girl in my house, so it’s hard to talk to her about anything. We never talk about personal things. Sometimes I just need to vent and when I have no one to vent to, I turn to my diary. The good thing about a diary is it doesn’t give you any feedback or talk, it just listens. The paper listens to the pen as it writes letter after letter, word after word, sentence after sentence. The pen doesn’t stop you when you’re wrong. It doesn’t tell you, you are dumb when you write silly words. It doesn’t run and tell everyone when you express your deepest, darkest secrets. A diary to a girl or a guy is the most trustworthy friend you could ever have. I would be lost without my diary. School is stressful to me at times and life at home is frustrating. My diary understands that I need to talk about it. When the pen and the paper meet, it’s like an escape from the real world. It’s just me and my diary. My diary reminds me of my own personal psychiatrist. I, the pen, go on and on about what ever is on my mind to my wonderful, understanding psychiatrist, the paper. Today has been a Monday, but that’s ok because I will fill the blank, lined pages of my diary up later in the privacy of my bedroom. I love you, diary, and I believe in you.
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