just picked up my old diary and the corner of my room I loved to write **(which i was ignoring for long)
i was surprised what I found there.


As a teenager loved writing always (i believe everyone of us is a hidden writer or poet inside)
it's been my support at times
at times clarification of questions
and answer to my unspoken silence
cut to ..
**
My beginning of new late teen age years
got many experiences
tools and knowledge
including my friend family phone social media and COVID period of silence.

even though I was never a tec fan
still adapted the charge and learnt to use technology for learning and productivity (took enough time to accept I don't have choices)

as years passed With all real time experience I becameore and more realistic (better to say practical (over)*)

and somewhere lost connect with the one i used to be in my teen age years ..
one who was having many issues but always hopeful .
one who get things unwanted but always believed goodness exist.
and more of my surprise (not actually)
i became one who tried to snatch every moment and fill it with some productive stuff**
i lost the self who used to write all thoughts.
let it flow in rymes
even though i still wrote(typed)sometimes just to give myself an illusion of self companion
but it was more of rat race ...(which i never wanted for myself) but doing in the name utilising my life(while i knew I'm falling behind from inside)
i was far away from the the actual heart of me who loved to flow in ink and words with smell of paper books .
but it all faded in responsibilities experiences and realistic life which somehow find benefits*** even in living a life.
***
here what I found in that old ignored diary .
"some Empaty pages "

yeah you read it right some empty pages ¡
and that mettes because as teen,life was much simpler .
i used to leave some empaty pages in last (in hope after becoming an adult I'll re write on the same)as i was full of hopes .
and for that particular diary i left so many intentionally because i wanted to write in new dairy (being a teen and writer it's obvious i loved writing on new pages ....i was bit greedy for that new write up feel ..you can understand if you have lived your student life that way:b


but I didn't new those empty pages will help me find the one i was disconnected from long 'this sooner'

i was just reading it all I wrote.. and realised; i used to be more cheer full more lively and more self motivated
but while growing up with all my realism based life( which only focuses on success and results) I lost the inner one who love spending time in nature and put write ups in flow without any need of fancy tools .
at that time i never needed any appreciations, inspections, reason or opinions all i needed was my inner instict, pen paper and ink with a natural place to sit.
but as real world approached I was more focused on trickes techniques strategies and so called benefits of productivity with a loop of social status and technology (which was indeed useful but not something i truly needed)
today while Writing in those empty pages i realised

》 we people making our lives difficult by our own with thinking (if you don't believe me just think of the time you saw or heard someone’s post on life suffering and you started shading yours to feel relatable where consciously there were none..right before the moment.)
》we are in consistent loop of finding while losing ourselves ..we are so consistent to find some key of success which doesn't exist while losing all we have in present. (so the point if you are ignoring something just because you don't have time pick it up and realise life is yours to love not to prove)
》and the things we leave behind or our left behind will appear or new nice once will definitely come to remind...life is progress not a race; its a journey not a chase.

and that's how i realised the same.
I might feel productive with technology but i still crave real writing certainl..y infact its a crave to keep up with creativity with a feel of writing.
no metter what is the situation or social connect I still love to walk in wild without anything ..just naturally *

indeed it's not a story it's reality If you didn't pick up something left behind you crave usually just pick it up ..your notbook,Diary, dance music, painting, colours or creativity it can be
or walking in wild like me it would be
i bet you'll not regret declining this rat race and
finding your inner instict which is unnoticed till now intentionally
i hope you'll find' your' smile as I found 'Me'.


writing as a reminder till infinity:)

p.s. the cover above is too similar to my own forgotten diary attaching to mark it's all sothing reality:)

sorry for the writing errors; indeed i need to work on my writing (typing)skills for long stuff... so as story.

thank you for reading i hope you might get what you forgot:)

²/⁸/²⁰²³
© Meenakshi ___ मीशा✒️