Thursday 7th June

I’ve never been a morning person, but now each second counts before my vision goes dark. I will cherish the time captured this morning forever. I grab my phone out and press record.

The night sky humbly says goodnight as the last stars dim their sparkle. Kookaburras cry out in boisterous laughter. Nature’s alarm of a new day. A hazy glow peeks across the horizon—muted hues of ...

Diary Entry #1: The Fading Light

April 2nd

I woke up today and couldn’t tell if the sun had risen or if the clouds had simply swallowed the world whole.

There’s a fog over everything lately—not the kind that drapes the city streets, but one that clings to my vision, softening the edges of all I see. Last week, I dismissed it as exhaustion. I thought maybe I had been reading too much, staring at...

September 3, 1987

The light had shined upon my face waking me. I’d always loved be waken by the light. Especially how the light always is bright enough to wake me in the early hours so I could sneak out and run down the pasture to get to the river crossing to see him before he left for town.

Gods he did have the utterly most beautiful ocean blue eyes. That always seemed to hold me ca...

It is not always ideal to be sitting at a coffee table at home alone with no one on your side. At those times the only merriment you feel is of the alcohol on your bedside table whispering into your ear with an impish glee

‘where did it all go wrong?’

it gets darker as the night passes while you are on a pendulum swinging between derision and clarity about you, and HER.

were you blind all alo...

DAY 1: I woke up today with fog clouding my brain, which took a couple of minutes to lift. I can’t believe I’m her property now, her prisoner. If only I could escape…

She is trying her best to make me feel comfortable. At least, as comfortable as one can be, given the circumstances. For example, she fed me traditional food from my home country. When I smelled it, if I closed my eyes, I could be tr...

_(I don’t normally write historical fiction, but why not write about Bryan Charnley. Bryan Charnley was an artist with schizophrenia, he painted self portraits and they got more abstract as he became forgetting himself. Hope you have a wonderful day and happy pride!)_

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**_*I do not mean to be rude to anyone with schizophrenia by the way I write this. I know not all people with schizophrenia writ...

I'm tired. So tired. My eyelids dip as they track the vibrant moving pictures on my screen. One after the other, after the other. Styles flip in front of my face like a zoetrope, everything blurring together. Soft girl aesthetic wait no dark academia wait no light academ - wait no, soft academia travel girl she's so coquette she's not even real. Here's my top twenty pieces of advice if you're in y...

Day six,

It was never in my plans to wake up panicking every morning because I can't remember my eyes are gone. The air escapes my lungs for a brief moment, and then the realization comes right into my head.

I can't see.

Nothing I do will be able to change the misery I'm constantly being put through the more days that go by. No sweet words from him will be able to make up for the fact that du...

Wednesday

Jan 1, 2025

Dear diary,

Today I was slightly frustrated as I squinted at my textbook, the words blurring together. I don’t think it’s cause for concern, it’s just a bit of fuzziness around some objects. Occasionally some colors will blend together but nothing alarming. It could be due to stress I’ve been overwhelmed by my studies recently but finals are in a week and I should have time t...

Blurry eyes

Double vision

Can’t see the sky

Daily revision

Tunnel sight

Burning tears

Nothing to see

No more fears...