— temporary bliss's Dear Diary

I'm playing chess with this guy from the Netherlands—super cute—who happens to have the same name as the bastard who ripped my heart out last year. It turns out I messaged him 9 months ago. My messages were: Johannes... Why? Do you not th

He had not visited my dreams for what felt like an age, but this time, he did. As if a figure from a cherished picture coming out of the frame, he stood before me like a mirror to the year 2023—two years ago—back to the time he wore his newly bou

"Baka." "What?" he replied, his deep voice soft on the other end. "Does your fart smell?" Almost instantly, the patience in his tone evaporated. "I really don't want to talk about things like this." "Because I just farted and it s

Idk why I keep playing chess. It pisses me the fuck off. Opponents be like "good game". No. Fuck you.

Okay, so.. I decided to just write it in a separate entry because I like to keep records of my dreams. And since you want the unfiltered version, I hope you won't take offense 😬 This prolly happened because I usually end up scrolling through Op

“Baka?” I called through Discord after a long, comfortable silence. “Ja?” he replied. “What are you doing?” “I hate you.” I blinked, deadpan, trying to figure out what the hell just happened. Did he perhaps mishear my question and

My family and relatives used to tell me that when I was born, my nose was so microscopic they had to stab it with a needle to create two holes for me to breathe. For a good chunk of my early years, I was walking around thinking my nose was DIY'd.

"When I die, I don't want to be buried," she says, her voice soft and cold, like the breeze brushing her skin and the touch of a lover's ghost. "Why?" he asks, leaning against the sycamore's trunk beside her, examining her up close. But her

Tomorrow, it's your birthday. It seems like just yesterday when we spent the whole night talking about anything. Playing pool, being crazy... and just being ourselves. Not once faking laughter because all the fun we had was genuine. It was your birth

She stole my dress, so of course she is the victim. The video she posted on Instagram, according to big sister, was removed from her account; her profile picture on Facebook was apparently taken down as well, replaced with some self-deprecating texts

I have spoken harshly to my younger sister in a fit of anger, but now I feel a little guilty about it. It all started when my older sister showed me a video of the younger witch flaunting her body in an elaborate way, where she leans against the

Wie geht es dir? Bist du noch am Leben? Hahaha. Ich vermisse deine Updates. Deine Einträge waren das, worauf ich mich hier in dieser App am meisten gefreut habe. Du hast wahrscheinlich inzwischen eine Freundin. Oder du hast dein Buch fertiggestellt!

As I sat before the mirror, a young woman I scarcely saw appeared before me. Her face—captivating and beautiful—stared blankly into my own. Her almond eyes, dark and indifferent, then twinkled in recognition, as if meeting an old friend she had not e

Despite the relief of knowing my parents were officially arriving on Monday, as originally planned, Sunday remained a busy day and was no better for it. However, their visit brought an improvement to my room, and such a pleasant change leaves me with

My parents are coming to visit tomorrow, arriving on Monday, and I must confess (with some shame) that I feel little joy at the prospect. More people in the house means more work for me, less space to breathe, and scarcely a moment of solitude. The o