Dear journal,
Today you are the only friend I can trust. But maybe even you'll betray me. Maybe the lines I write will be altered, that your ink form will somehow shift like the faces of those I see at night, those I see in my dreams. Not just when I sleep, but when I wake. Little flashes, like quicksilver meeting lightning. I know I've confided in you before but now I fear my only solace is nothing more than a lie.
And so, old friend, I'm going to do the unthinkable. I'm committing you to the pyre. I'm sorry.
