A couple drops of red and blue paint are scattered on the page.
Is it just me or are things really quiet? It's as if I'm missing out on something but I don't know what.
I've been working on some new art but that's all. . .
My sister and I talk occasionally. . . but I still can't help but feel alone and isolated.
Maybe it's my imagination.
I talked to Vati a couple days ago. He's great. It's nice having someone to just talk to.
. . .
Maybe I'm just not a people person. Maybe I'm more introverted than I thought I was.
Or. . .
Maybe I'm simply on the outside, looking in. . .
A few water stains smudge the next paragraph.
I should be asleep, Vati might come in to check on me.
I suppose I'll end this entry here.
Sincerely,
Rất tiếc! Hình ảnh này không tuân theo hướng dẫn nội dung. Để tiếp tục đăng tải, vui lòng xóa hoặc tải lên một hình ảnh khác.
BẠN ĐANG ĐỌC
Kugelmugel's Diary
Ngẫu nhiên[ | :.°•∘✩Kugelmugel's Diary✩∘•°.: | ] Kugelmugel took out a variety of different colors of paint. He took a paintbrush out of his pocket and wrote a note on the cover of the journal. 'Writing is art.' "Everything is art." He reminded himself. He t...
