Blank pages.

As some of you might know, I write a personal journal. Yes, the one I considered a novel.

So, as usual, after telling myself that I should probably sleep instead of watching youtube at 2 A.M. and ruining my eyes and brain, I turned to the red-covered diary sitting at my bed table, opened it up on today’s date and started scribbling.

It was on the left page. As I wrote about the completely boring things that happened today (yay no school tomorrow thanks storm!), my eyes shot towards the second page. The right page.

The blank page.

I was suddenly hit by an instant realization: my future lies between those pages. It is waiting to be written. And it’ll be written by my hand. But at the time of writing, it would already have been my past.

I did not think of it or ponder on it for one second. It was like an cartoonish lightbulb moment. Some sort of Eureka.

I looked again at the page, more intensely, like I could read between the lines, like if I looked enough, I would get a glimpse of what these lines hold, or will hold. Will have held.

It got me thinking. What if… What if I could write these pages right now? Fill them up with my expectations, or what I want to happen, or maybe even my deepest fantasies?

Who knows? Maybe it’s my Death Note, but instead of taking lives to extend my own, I just… Write my own?

The concept is fascinating and I would love to explore it. But I do feel like there have been books written about that before. It just really seems amazing.

I am now sort of fearful towards my journal. Who knows? I keep repeating to myself. Who knows what will happen during the 322 remaining days?

I dread the bad news so much that I can’t even consider what the good news might be.

If right now, you tell me that if I open my diary I will find it completely written, I’d be in total confusion and dilemma. I don’t know if I would want to read it or not. I’m leaning towards not, but still… I want to be prepared if something ever struck.

A realistic thing I could do is maybe write a little note to myself on random days, that’d be a nice – or maybe not – surprise for my future self (except if I remember writing those). Or maybe, put up little expectation boxes, goals I want accomplished, personal reminders…

For now, I’ll just keep writing daily. And just like you, just like everyone on this planet, I’ll have to wait for tomorrow to find out what it holds.