Today is July 12,2004 and here I am once again . I have to say that every day feels like I'm having the same day . Nothing has happened out of the ordinary for me as of yet . I am still coming to you dear diary and sharing all of my secrets as I have done before . You are my only friend dear diary . I still wonder if any one else understands my thoughts besides you . If someone were to tell me that they had read my diary I would probably wonder why . I don't think of myself as a interesting person . I know I really couldn't put my thoughts to paper because that's just too permanent for me . My thoughts on paper will most likely end up in some museum for curious oddities . I can't see my thoughts on display under glass for all of the world to see . I can't imagine anyone reading any of this . Someone like me would keep a diary locked away in an attic somewhere left to collect dust and mold. Age would simply yellow its pages and its edges tattered .