I had a secret diary once, nearly three years ago now, in which I posted snarky prosepoems in high Drama Queen form. I rediscovered it today, and while I found it mostly silly, years removed from the feelings that generated it, it did make me long, again, to have the ability to record myself in letters and symbols.

When did I lose that? Honestly. I've lost so much already.

I only exist in the present and this little textbox. That's the truth.