I don’t like starting new journals because I know I won’t finish them.
I don’t like starting relationships
because I usually write about them in the journals I never finish.
I don’t like talking to girls
because I am afraid I will grow too close to them, resulting in the start of a relationship of which I would begin to write about in a journal that won’t be finished.
I don’t like making new friends
because they may introduce me to a girl that I grow too close to, start a relationship with and inevitably begin to write about in a leather bound journal that I will forget about and never finish.
I don’t much enjoy leaving my room
because leaving my room could result in me making a friend, and that friend could introduce me to a girl who I grow too close to, and if I grow too close to her we will start a romantic relationship, which my pen will FORCE me to write about in a brand new journal that I most certainly will not finish.
So I will sit at my desk
and admire an unused journal with a tree on the cover and wish I could recall a story worthy of inhabiting the first page.
