I was running through my old journals...

And it moved me so much.

It shocked me how much I've changed.
It showed how bad my english used to be...
How naive I was.
How genuine and simple-minded (as in uncorrupted) I used to be...
How I document all the trivial things
How I regurgitate the tiniest things in my life without polishing and refining - showing how I truly felt.
How innocent I was - and how un-vain I used to be.
The self which was really shy...
How sentimental I can be, but still convey a degree of realism.
How uncertain I am in life - really like a child trying to figure things out.
How I wasn't actually selective of what I write... and how transparent I used to be.
The simple things in my life...
It made me want to cry...
It made me cringe... in a good way.
How I didn't get sarcasm and just how uncultured I was...
And all the damn long-winded posts - like a stream of consciousness - that truly reflected me.
I even used to write about the weather...

I forgot about all those simple things about life...
Makes me seem so distant to who I used to be.
Argh, a sense of nostalgia overwhelms me.
I need to write like that more often - open up.