My thoughts constantly elude me, despite my best efforts to remember them. They come to me at the oddest of hours, and go just as I decide to pen them down. I've since decided to pack my Paul Frank notebook, a Christmas present from a friend of the X, along with me whenever I am out. I have this queer habit of collecting notebooks, and never getting down to writing in them. Especially so if their pages are permanently bound to the spine and ripping one out is just too unsightly. Those with ring-binders, I have absolutely no qualms ripping pages out whenever I feel my handwriting isn't fit to be in the book, or the notes on it are no longer relevant. Obviously those books became comparatively thinner than the rest. And eventually I just end up with a pile of notebooks-turned-memorabilia.
Although Paul's pages are permanently bound to its spine, I decided to make full use of it. What good is a notebook as a memorabilia if there is nothing inside to connect to the past?
My first thoughts were successfully transferred from my brain to Paul today. Perhaps when I have a substantial amount of thoughts in Paul, and they are worth sharing, I would imprint them here.
........
From 4, to 2. We've been through so much together, why the animosity? When someone is aware they've fucked up, but they apologise for it, should you not find it in your heart to forgive that person? Just down to the 2 of you, be the bigger person that I know you are.
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