Dear Diary

Dear Diary You don't exist, of course, so I can speak as I like. I must admit I rather like that, since no one cares, and I have some freedom here. The aim is not to offend anyone of course; I'm not a sadist. But neither do I mind seeing one cross his arms and listen grudgingly. I'm stubborn enough to plunge on. Sure, respond when you like. I love dialogue. So there you have it; a celebration of something that isn't there. Then I think of it appearing --or disappearing. And either way, like death. ~