How old were you when you started your first diary?

I was 'I-can't- remember-how- many -years- old' old when I first picked up a brown coloured book to write out my day. I was in the 4th grade, 5th perhaps. I can't imagine why I wanted to write a diary. I for the life of me can't remember what I wanted to write about. Apart from school, it was not like I doing super rocking stuff, figuring life stuff anyway, that's beside the point. So I was writing a diary as a child. But I picked up my writing my diary what I thought was 'seriously' was when i was about 16. You know how it is when you are 16; there is so much to say just not the right people to say it to. You are going through growing up. You don't understand many things. You just started noticing the cute guy on TV and that TV show everyone is talking about except you because your parents think you shouldn't watch it (thank god). You want some venting ground. You need to vent that anger and confusion out. You want to be heard.


I recently found my diary and I was laughing so much. Mostly dying of embarrassment about the things I wrote. But God. It's great that I had the good sense to know that a diary should always be hidden. I cannot imagine what would happen if that diary landed in anyone's hand. Not that I write stuff that would get me in trouble; just the sheer innocence and stupidity that you can see will make you want to kill yourself. Ah. How it is to be 16 and naive. and to think that you aren't naive. To think that you have things figured out. Friends figured out. Life figured out.

I am still laughing about what I thought about certain things. It makes me laugh even more that this blog is a personal diary of sorts and is going to be up for eternity for me to read. When I gain my sanity say a few years from now, am I going to laugh at the stuff I write today? I will. I think I will.