To my Blog

Dear Blog,

I was thinking of all the progress we've been making lately. Our relationship in the past has suffered a lot because I was either busy with my work, or just plain lazy. The last thing I want to do is make you feel neglected again, but I have something to confront you about.

I have been missing the feel of a pen in my hand, and the way it seem to magically transform a mess of scribbles into unfinished thoughts that only I would understand. What I'm trying to say is, I would like to explore my relationship with someone new: the hard cover diary I've been eyeing at the store lately.

I know this will not be easy for you to listen to, but every time I see it on the shelf in that old cramped up store, at the old Chinese mall near my house, I feel like it's the only thing that calls out to me. I promised I'll not let our relationship slip away again. But I want to do this for me. I know I already have a lot to be thankful for: like the worn out cover that shows how much I love my sketchbook, or the twenty-seven dollars and ten cents you promise me when I click the 'Monetize' tab, but I feel like it's still not enough. What I need is to feel the texture of the paper rub against my knuckles as I write, and the satisfaction of flipping the pages. I'm scared. I'm scared I'll forget how to write with a pen again.

Maybe we can make out an agreement, like typing the most interesting of thoughts and reorganize them on here? I swear your pictures will always be more colourful than the scribbled out messes that I occasionally might draw in there.

Let me know what you think, and remember: you will always be a significant part of my life.

xoxo