I just cant even remember how long have I quitted writing journal.
In spite of laziness, I do think it's painful to recall any grievous thing happened...not to mention writing it down.Having facts bloodily displayed is just as placing irrefutable evidence in front of an offender,it is not that interesting.(Ok,unless you are the victim who wanna accuse somebody... but that wont be funny to note down how ourselves have been hurt, isn it!?)Perhaps that is the reason of why I dislike writing letters as well...
During our life there are tons of chances for us to harm or to be harmed; though I’m not too sure about which is more frequent, I found recording either of them nonsense.
I have to add, I well and truly understand that there's also millions of goodness happening every day,however I would rather memorize those joy by heart,that would be enjoyable enough for me.
From when on I become that timid to face the fact? Perhaps since I discovered sadness appears on me more often than happiness. (See,I can never deny that I am absolutely a pessimist.)
Whatever with my repeating dry–as-dust life in the States,now I'm in a predicament to have nothing good or unusual to report while I have to do so,God.