It's late at night and I feel like a million things flood my mind all at once. I talk to you dear diary more than I talk to anyone if that makes any sense. I don't know what people would say if they found out that I kept a diary. People would wonder about the kinds of things that I would tell you like what did I write about or who did I write about and why did I write certain things at a certain time. Its easier to talk to a diary than it is saying things out loud. I wonder if anyone else feels this way or if its only me. I'm probably not making any sense. Maybe I'm from another planet like maybe the 3rd rock from the sun, just kidding that was my attempt at humor. Who really cares anyway ? This is just thoughts that spring up inside me from time to time. I don't know how any of this makes me sense but these are my thoughts. This is my life thus far.