Book of Poems

I usually carry around with me a book which I use to take notes and write down ideas and feelings I have while I am out and about, and a lot of the time it is in the form of poetry. I seem to have misplaced my book whilst in Münich the other day...

I'm not as upset about it as I thought I would be. I'm more facinated by the idea of who may find it, and what they think if/when they read through it.

My diary was more about a way for me release thoughts and feelings at the time, and the fact that I wrote them down means they served their intended purpose.
Although I kind of like occasionally flicking through the endless pages of notes, poems and scribbles and being taken back to the time, place and mindframe when I wrote it, I dont feel like I've really lost anything.


So this post goes out to that diary, and I guess to the person who finds it and is hopefully inspired by it.