As I look over the pages of my diary, written in different coloured inks in a notebook with a black paper cover, memories invade me, abrubtly and unexpectedly.. Suddenly on that sunny path, with a memory of the rain.. In some pages, I had a funny feeling that I was reading a younger version of myself with all her childish thoughts and silly dreams. A pair of diamond earrings, live in the Middle ages, be a friend to my favorite writer...etc.
In other pages, I wrote about some people who will be always dearly remembered, "S" who could tell a great deal about people from their photographs, "R" who would finish my sentences for me, long interesting conversations I always had with "D", "M" who shared me many showers under rain.. dearly beloved memories.
It's been a long time since I last wrote something here. So here I am again, my dear void..
