3 ENTRY 1

I am not sure why I'm writng. I found this notebook in bag with some pens and I had the impulse of taking one and writing. Writing had always been my way a channeling my feelings, right now have lots of those, but even still doing it feels out of place. This exasperatng, I had never wanted so much to see someone in my life.

My memories ar blurry. I can remember some things, like that writing was a habit of mine, but when I try to think in exact memories my head seem start spinning.

My name, I hadnt thought about it. I think I remember it, its