Anne Frank, The Diary of a Young Girl (1995 Definitive Edition), 4/5/44
Just read this and it really spoke to me. So I thought I’d share it.
Unless you write yourself, you can’t know how wonderful it is; I always used to bemoan the fact that I couldn’t draw, but now I’m overjoyed that at least I can write. And if I don’t have the talent to write books or newspaper articles, I can always write for myself….I don’t want to have lived in vain like most people. I want to be useful or bring enjoyment to all people, even those I’ve never met. I want to go on living even after my death! And that’s why I’m so grateful to God for having given me this gift, which I can use to develop myself and to express all that’s inside me!
When I write I can shake off all my cares. My sorrow disappears, my spirits are revived! But, and that’s a big question, will I ever be able to write something great, will I ever become a journalist or a writer?
I hope so, oh, I hope so very much, because writing allows me to record everything, all my thoughts, ideals, and fantasies….
So onward and upward, with renewed spirits. It’ll all work out, because I’m determined to write!
imagine being a newborn baby. u could fuck with people so hard. like someone goes “oh, how old are you?” you go “55”. they get confused as fuck. “wtf? u dont look close to 55”. at this point u have the upper hand. you smirk, and say “55…minutes”. everyone gets a good laugh. imagine