Dear diary:
How you might well know, I like someone, and I don't know what to do about it, because everyday that pass I like him more, even though I don't even know his name and that all this is really stupid, I feel like I'm living in a poem, although I had never really understood poetry before; because every time I see him, I am head over heels, I can't breath, I feel I die even though my heart beats faster than ever, the neurons of my brain stop working but at the same time send stimulus all over my body; therefore, now I that I can feel all this when I see him, I can understand poetry, because things like this, feelings like this can only be read in poems.
The end.
