I am perpetually refining my writing each day capturing details of mundane life as my day goes by; using apt words & describing it. Jotting down ideas, quotes and sentences that move me. Words that put a spell on me. An accidental habit I stumbled upon once upon a time. Going back to the older books, each page is written in a different mood; handwriting justifying it. I find remnants of the former self, memories, days that have gone by and patterns that stay the same — the fall of day and night, the ebb & flow of life. The clarity in thoughts, of being myself. I can relate to the era gone by, the notes — the personal essays, the ache in the pages, happiness gleaming through words and feel grateful filling these journals, recording my memoir.
