Dear Dairy,
Well, audience of my dairy and voyeurs of entries behold, let me present you with A Contorted View of The World. Your spirit is the very ink of my pen. I control you with any swift strokes I land my brush. Every mistake I make become your weakness. Of the world I painted blue and green, and spilled colours onto the land. Of green, I made plants, of blue, I made water and of yellow, I made life. I splashed red and black onto my painting, for the world is indeed sinful. I splashed white and yellow onto hidden terrain. I drew and wrote of all, and placed them beautifully into stories and paintings. And lastly, I scattered paintbrushes and pens, enough for all, onto the world. I watch as day and night passes, how my painting contorts, how my stories develop. And yes, you all are part of my creation, from my world I gave you existence, but I gave you liberty too. For of the paintbrushes, you can make a difference.
Bizarre, isn't it all? Well, never cease to believe what you can never prove impossible. And what have we used of our paintbrushes? I see ugly spots in the sky, around me and in the air. The scent of evil is far overwhelming than when the world begun. Do you fear at all? Or are you allies of those dark artists? An alliance of blood-craze warriors, destroyers of nature and epidemic of impurities. Many of us has condoned to them, and surrendered our paintbrushes. Why have we spurge so much of red on ourselves that it turns bloody and black? So terrifying, that we have spurned the efforts of our creator to balance beauty and ugliness, to make his creation something that oozes of evil, not worthy of any mentioning.
Dearest, it is too much for a night. I do not dare to sleep for I fear tomorrow, what wrath our creator shall show. I will close my eyes, shutting off the patch of redness that bothers me everytime, and dream, a dream of happiness, joy, and angels.