A Public Diary

In my room, there’s a drawer. Inside that drawer, there are four crimson-colored notebooks. I used to write diaries on those, but then ditched the idea out of boredom.

I’ve posted many things here. I wrote about this, then that, then some fiction, then some poetry, then some personal stories, then some short essays. But still, after all these writings, I often wonder what the hell this whole thing is—I really do.

A thought came to me recently: “Maybe this is a diary.” Yes. Diary. It’s a diary! A programmable diary. An infinitely shareable, infinitely readable diary. A diary that lives on the internet instead of those crimson-colored notebooks. A diary where CSS is as important as prose, where typography is as important as poetry.

For the longest time, I had no idea how to greet people when they visit this website. Now I do.

My dear reader, welcome to my diary.