Ink_heart's Dear Diary

Dear diary, People say driving is a peaceful activity. You know, wind in your hair, music playing, mind drifting. But that’s only true if you're not driving with my mother in the passenger seat. Oh no, in that case, you'd rather walk barefoot from P

Dear Diary, You know… I used to think sleep was a basic human right. Like oxygen. Or silence after midnight. But here I am. 2:38 a.m. Eyes wide open. Brain doing backflips. Body completely exhausted but somehow still... on. Dorm life? Forget

Dear Diary, Welcome back to Season 3, Episode 1 of my ongoing family drama called"Dust, Baggage & Emotional Damage." This week’s plot twist begins in the city, where my mom and I ventured to reclaim our long-abandoned apartment from layers of dust t

Dear Diary, Hey, miss me? Of course you did—you’re literally a book with no choice. So, how am I? Emotionally and mentally? Shockingly functional. I know, someone alert the media. But physically? Let’s just say my body and I are no longer on spea

Dear Diary, Is this what depression really looks like? Quiet. Heavy. Lingering. I don’t want to study. I don’t want to cook. I don’t want to be right now. I stood in the kitchen at 11 p.m., cooking not out of joy just hunger. And even that felt lik

Dear Diary, Well, well, well. My sister, the benevolent tech fairy she is, decided to DM me a life-changing website that tracks your Instagram following activity. A noble cause, really. I opened the link expecting an all-knowing oracle to reveal

Dear Diary, My head is buzzing louder than a neon sign , my eyes are stinging from the absence of sleep, and my soul is weighed down by the cruel comedy of existence because nothing says ‘good morning’ like a brain that’s still hitting snooze. We

Dear diary, You know what's funny? Everyone’s panicking. Crying in group chats, over-caffeinating, rewriting the UN Charter in color-coded notes. Me? I’ve reached a level of emotional detachment so refined, it should have its own diplomatic status

Dear diary, The beginning was nice like a calm before the storm. But, of course, the middle was the worst, and the end gave just enough solace to make me question my sanity. Me and Janet were at the airport, casually saying hi to our professor.

Dear Diary, The light in my room was just... too white, too still, like it was holding its breath I kept glancing at the window, wishing I’d opened it earlier.let in something natural, something real. But instead, I made the call. And, well, th

Dear diary, All good things must come to an end like my brief, shining moment of joy over my marks in discourse analysis. It was beautiful… fleeting… like a firework… or my will to live during finals season. Now, on to French the so-called language

Dear Diary, Today, I am not just good, I am soaring like a  pigeon over a Parisian baguette shop. I am on cloud nine, ten, and possibly eleven. Why, you ask? Because I got a 9.4/10 on my research paper and rewarded myself with a chicken pizza. What

Dear Readers (or whoever accidentally ended up here while avoiding real responsibilities), Hope you’re doing well. Or at least not questioning every life choice under a deceptively perfect sky like I was during my summer course in the UK. Do

Dear diary How are you? Me ? Well I am doing great ! Thanks for asking I am having a dose of motivation because yesterday, I hung out with Janet, and let me tell you, when we’re together, it’s like all the negative energy in the world just evapor

Dear Diary,  Is this burn out or procrastination? who’s to say? They both wear the same perfume: despair with a hint of guilt. I awoke promptly at 8:00 AM.No grogginess, no remnants of sleep to blame. And yet, a heavy fog clung to my will. I simply