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Dear diary,
I like to start with ‘dear diary’. It reminds me of teen fiction and easier times. And it’s conspiratorial isn’t it, just me and you against the world. Keeping secrets, behind cupped hands. Furtive, whispering, discreet.
So my dear diary, here we are and I am once again flattened by how trouble can seep from every crack. All at the same time. Even the ones you could not see.
I feel embarrassed to tell you just how many things have gone wrong lately. Like I am that friend who always has the sad tale. The one nobody likes to enquire how they are. She’ll keep you talking for ages, I bet they say.
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