Within two bleak days my entire emotional core would be snuffed out. Causing me to feel like. . . .
Honestly, I believe I’ve had enough of the vicious emotional games that most ghastly men try to play. From the foolish ones, those who think it’s okay for them to behave a certain way. . . .
Yet again, no response when I reached out to Nicholas. What we once had was powerful and . . . .
Good evening, it’s presently 9:35 p.m. on Monday the 6th of April. This journal entry is since Saturday the 4th, Sunday the 5th, and today Monday the 6th of April. It has been undoubtedly a whirlwind the past three days. Saturday and Sunday I felt completely lost, last night I dealt with many family dramas, and today has been chaos. I’m thinking people are starting to lose their flipping minds.
Now I endure this on top of everything else that's going through my brain to stress and worry about. Like I want to go to a doctors office or hospital where people are ill. Knowing my luck so far today, I’d catch the coronavirus. Hopefully, it doesn’t continue to swell, but if it does I guess I know where I’m going in the next few days
I need to record something, because it’s my true feelings. Every time I write in this journal, I make sure that what comes down from my brain and up from my heart exits out my fingers. I’ve done this since day one of my Journal. At the same time I’m terrified to record what I’m about to write, because my new friend reads my journal. The last thing I want to do is frighten him or make him get out of my lane.