My notebook pages contain the words that flow as if from some other more divine place, the words that offer a hand in becoming a better me.
If I was a notebook, if my soul were written within, I'd be happy for anyone to read what was in there.
From the outer cover the notebook was as any other, yet to read the pages was to feel as if one bathed in the light of the holy grail.
The notebook was adorned with the calligraphy of her dreams, beautiful, even though it was a scrawl of biro.
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