Do you ever feel like you're growing and shrinking at the same time?

Tonight I cannot say anything new. I spent the night looking over my diary, and looking back I am surprised by how unbelievable my life seems, and how quickly so much of it changed. There is too little time to explain. So tonight, nothing new. Only reflections of the people that kept me writing. Nothing is worth more than this day. No matter...nothing is worth more than this night. Night is where we reflect, it's when the blogs get written, it's the aftereffect. But of how long? One day? Maybe a few hours? What about forever? When do we look back, when do we know it's time to look back? I didn't want to look back tonight. I wanted to move forward, chase the dream, take on the extraordinary and get a few steps ahead. But instead I got caught by the line I wrote in the beginning of my diary: though I am sure the following pages will be filled quickly with both good and terrible things, in this first page, all I will say is I swear fear will not keep me from filling the book. Then the truly terrible thing will occur, if the pages rae not filled. So bring on the day, and go gentle with the night. Just remember whatever happens, to write it down.

Sometimes promises are much harder to keep than we originally think, even the noble ones.

So this entry is dedicated to thanking those that inspired me to keep writing, no matter what happened. You recognized the importance of writing to me, and also the pain it caused to relive memories through something as bold and believeable as a skeleton of words. Reading back over my diary has helped me realize that time is nothing to writing, especially in a form such as a blog or a journal, where every entry is the present. This is a blog of the past. I promised not to say anything new. I keep that promise tonight, on this page. But tomorrow, a new skeleton will begin.