a strange & dusty, dusty book

[Dandeli]

hello, diary.. i have not written in around four years..! or.. is it five now?

i suppose it doesn't matter.. but have you missed me?!
i had to tear you out from beneath letters that span from today
to the first days i set out on my tiny, tiny adventures..

(((many of which imploring the reader to look at their ceiling)))

so! let's fill in the void an itsy-bitsy bit,

.

time has ran it's course,

.

and.. to admittedly hamper anything whimsical, it is time i confess .. they.. are gone. many are gone. 

it never hurts until you.. look back and remember, all those little children.. remember, me?

you were amongst them, and you all.. were friends, wholeheartedly.

 back then we sought many things -

.

 we sought.. uh! lots of action,

 we sought.. lots and lots of change,

we sought.. the best for one another in

our little, little grouping.

.

 we rallied up, we pursued what felt right, we squabbled amongst each other when things weren't quite right for everyone..

 we were.. a rowdy bunch, and now..

.. some.. are gone. not all, not at all - but it's no longer whole, is it?

i.. will not forget. you, your lives. 

your thoughts, your feelings.. 

the ones you expressed outwardly!

.. and the lessons you have given.

.

.. it is sad - from tossing crumpled notes in class, to fighting those that lie within the mire.. to cleaning out basements, going head to head against each other in that.. very, very fun wargames class, we eventually turned our blades - and staffs, either or! - to fellow man itself. but.. it was always going to be that way. i wish we could all understand one another, but trying that is usually as efficient as trying to get oil to intermix with water.. or to somehow get vinegar to taste good on dessert.. it's difficult, we try though, don't we?

.

i love all my friends,

i wonder where some of them are now..

.

---

p.s. i never realised how big these kids of mine have grown and quite frankly i am horrified.

p.s. also. . . .

[Dandeli]

Oddly enough, an additional page has been scribbled in! It seems dangerously catered to a singular individual, 

and much to the dismay of future readers, left inconspicuous and vague, telling about little of her life. One may

even say this an absolute sham of a diary, and not how they are meant to be used, who'll understand this later?

HELLO AGAIN, DIARY:
it's me, it's who you expected,

ektu.

just ektu.



What do you mean I only write in here when I want to mope and grieve??
It's how it goes; get used to it, book! Wah, Wah, BOO. HOO.
.
Those are the words I would put in here if this book had sentience - however,

it does not,

.

i am thirty-four five years old and i am talking to myself,

but that isn't the subject today,

.

hey,

.

pal, can you see from up there?

me moping..??!!! i know you've like, passed on, maybe?

new day, new you, but i want to imagine

i can send you a.. farewell?

.

i like make believe, something, something,

.

i do not know where your corpse lays to rot,

would it rot? you were approximately sixty-eight percent. .

metal,

.

but?

.

that is beside the point; i wonder, 

if relinquished from it all,

your duties,

responsibilities,

.

what would you have sought. .

beyond that life?

.

a fluorescent blue snapback?

a pair of comfier slippers - were they slippers?

i couldn't tell - it's hard to look down far, you know?

tall up here.

.

move onto your next life swimmingly, won't you?

.

much like that.. dolphin you tried to adhere a letter to..

.. and orchestrate it to deliver it, seamlessly, after sinking into the WET sea.

.

P.S. my kids are growing and the How-To parent manual didn't cover everything.

what do i do, non-sentient, quiet diary consisting of like.. eighty two pages?

[Dandeli]

The final pages of this book are expended; the parchment beyond this has been haphazardly ripped out,
Once again - intentions and the one whom she's addressing is.. well - confusing for a contextless reader!
Characteristically cryptic, her last words are laid out in delicate handwriting, refined and drawn thinly,
A travesty; for all those that think 'wow, this isn't very diary-esque', they're in luck! There are no more
pages to scribe on; the remains of teared innards have been sank in blotches of ebony; ink in it's origin.

To you,

the one unreachable; where no call will reach you,

the place where no courier could ever make the trek,

where no smile nor frown will ever meet your eyeline,

.

To you.. I vainly write to - I am sorry,
.

You existed; you were there - you stirred and elicited emotions; there was ire - there were smiles, there were tears,

you were as real as any of us; your marks made, your story scribed into Eternia's history,
.

We did not align at times - but it was not beyond your comprehension; you blossomed in a miracle,

Who is to say a 'miracle' couldn't happen twice?
.

Could you call it a miracle?
.

It was not a denial of fate - it was a possibility; that you could have loved - you did love,

You strived - we all strive; you reached out, with your hand, to try curl your fingers around existence - grasp ahold of it tightly,

fondly,
.

To live - you did a lot, didn't you?

You hurt - but it was not your fault,
.

You had to.

Thrust forth - you didn't pick your destiny,

You didn't get a selection; you were dealt an unfair hand,
.

The results were corrupt,
.

But you had to,
.

But it could have ended - your path could have been changed, impossibilities can be denied - you were meant to be one.

A new path birthed - but amidst that battle; words to words - hearts to hearts, I cruelly sought the opposite, didn't I?
.

I doubted,

I worried,
Falling, to vices.
.

Stuck between both worlds - I relinquished one side of the coin for another,

At the encroachment to your finality - I held it, a grip unsure, a warped desire; in the end? I faltered,

An epiphany struck me,
.

To pour out your last wishes,

Your last unrehearsed lines,
.

To see a unbridled, honest and true proclamation of a mere want to be,

it has moved so many,

.

I will live - with you in my memory, with you in my heart,

It has been stained within my mindscape - laid out in more than solely ink; your story lines pages of my recollections,
.

I cannot bring you back - it is the undoable; you were strikingly true,

You were you - you existed,
.

And now you do not.
.

You never will again.
.

I'm so sorry.

[Dandeli]

[Dandeli]