Authors Note: Please Review at the end my faithful readers. I find it very unkind for people who read stories that authors have slaved over for you enjoyment just for barely no reviews. So for now on I am going to review every story I read, just like you should. With the review please tell me if I have any spelling mistakes or grammar mistakes. Hope you enjoy. Oh yah thank you for all those wonderful reviews for those people who did review.

Disclaimer: Do not own any of the characters that J.K. Rowling created. I do own the writing that I made up called Lost Ideas, but that is all I own.

After the Perfects Meeting,

Wednesday, September 1, 1976

Dear Diary,

The boring Perfect meeting is finally over. I am free, until the next Perfect Meeting, which is in a month from now.

As of right now, I am sitting in my compartment with the extremely boisterous and distracting Marauders, writing. I know it is somewhat risky, for me to be writing with Sirius peering over my shoulder; trying to read my bloody writing. Which I strictly do not allow, my words are well private, for my eyes only. However, what bloody amazes me, is the fact that Sirius wants to read my diary. When he refuses to pick up any other book and read.

You know what, I am going to write in you, in a dandy old place called the library. Sirius never comes in the library, he will never be able to read my diary now. He stated just before I left for the extremely boring Prefects Meeting, that he was allergic of the library, which makes him allergic to books as he ridiculously said to out loud. I have had a sudden realization, why am I writing about Sirius and his absurd problems, when I should be stating my own problems and feelings. Oh, I know why because Sirius is peering over my shoulder trying to read my god dam writing. Can you hold on a second? Oh never mind you are a non-living object, you can hold on for a second or maybe longer.

I hastily close my diary and turn to face Sirius," Sirius what are you doing?"

"Reading," he simply said.

"It's fine by my means that you are reading, but can you read something else? Like a real book for instance," I ask politely.

"No, I like reading your crazy, idiotic words," he says.

"Fine then," I get up from where I was sitting and push James off his seat he once preoccupied, he fell off the seat with a thud.

"Ouch," James rubbed his rear bottom.

"Sorry James," I say as he got up from the floor and sat down next to me.

"Just wondering James, can I trust you not to read my delicate and precious words?" I ask nicely.

"Yah," he smiled.Sigh, his smile is so dreamy and melt worthy. Oh, look at how shiny and pearly white his teeth are. AHHH, why am I thinking these absurd thoughts, Note to self do not think absurd thoughts anymore. These absurd thoughts make my thoughts defined as crazy, which I already am.

I open my diary again and find the page that I was on before Sirius horrendously disturbed me. I pick up my pen and try to think of what to write next. I start to chew on my pen cap, which left disgusting bite marks. AHHH, I have no clue what to write. I may have writers block. Maybe I should write about my writer's block that could work.

Sorry, about before, but after that tragic event, it made me loose my train of thought and now I declare I have writer's block. To get rid of this terrible writer block my mother, mommy, deceased mum, mama, madre has told me to write about it in order to unblock it. I will do that, but make it like a piece of writing for possible showings (aka Curious Sirius)

Lost Ideas

Every time I want to write after my mind goes crazy thinking up a brilliant, but still crazy idea. I pick up my notebook, the one with the blue cover that has been brusquely ripped off, and turn to a page that has not been tormented by my dreadful words. I grab my sword; fine a pen, nevertheless, have not you ever heard of the saying "A pen is mightier than a sword", which does not relate to what I am writing about. Therefore, as I place my black inked pen on the piece of paper, the Hogwarts Train, fine my unexciting train of thought goes off the track. Now my idea is lost. Whoa, I think I have a serious case of Writer's Block. However, as I am writing this paragraph, short story, thought, or whatever it may be called, am I not writing, am I not breaking down those unspeakable walls of Writer's Block with these small, but dominant words. However, as soon I am done with this piece of writing, I will go to bed seeing, as it is 1:10 am and think up yet another brilliant, but crazy idea. I will have that idea stuck in my head and drift off into a dreamless, thoughtless sleep. When I wake up at 11 in the morning or whenever my mother decides to wake me up I will pick up my tattered notebook and try to start to write. Nevertheless, as my pen touches the paper, my idea has slipped my mind yet again, into my humungous world of lost ideas, and yes, I need my own world to fit all my lost ideas. That is how many I have lost.

Yah I know it is not one o'clock in the mourning as of this moment. Nevertheless, it does give an effect off this piece of writing.

Whoa, the writing about writer's block does break down those walls of writers block. I think I am cure, now I can write all my emotions and secrets down. Oh, wait I still have that other supposed wall that covers up my emotions that has to be broken down. Moreover, writing in you will not bring it down. Elizabeth warned me that someone, a person to be exact, has to break it down before I am able to write it down, or confess it to the world. I hope that day comes soon, I just feel lonely and depressed without anybody to speak too. Except for you, diary, but you cannot comfort me or talk to me. Unless you are a magical diary, which you are capable to write back to me in order to comfort me, which be so cool. It could happen, seeing I do live in the magical world. Nevertheless, alas you are just a black leather bound diary filled with paper, which has no characteristics to make you a living thing.

"Lily we are arriving in Hogsmeade soon, better put away your diary," James says as I lift my emerald green eyes off the page that I was writing on and stare into his. For some reason my heartbeat is increasing. Note to self, go to Madam Pomfrey to make sure I have nothing wrong with my heart.

I shifted my eyes off staring at his eyes and looked at Sirius. Do my eyes betray me is he reading a book?

"Is that Sirius reading a book?" I ask Remus.

"Yes," Remus answers.

Guess what I just saw Sirius reading a book, never knew he can read one. Well I must be off, the train will be arriving in Hogsmeade in a few minutes and I have to help unload all of the Hogwartarians with Remus. I will write in you before I drift off into my haunting dreams tonight.

Lily

Authors Note: Review pretty please with a cherry on top.