Dear Diary

I trust you with my present thoughts
So you can keep me unbiased.
I’m pretty good at making up
A rearview story in regress.

Forgetting how confused I was
I blame myself for bad results
And take the credit for the good
Arising out of randomness.

I play a mental see-saw game:
“I did not see it coming in”,
“Of course, I saw how things would turn”,
And so decode the craziness.

I trust you Dear Diary
To take me back to how things were,
And not to how I see them now
Through memory’s distorted lens.

“But let me say, Dear Minakhi,
That I can only hold your words.
And all you write are excuses
In hopes of gaining forgiveness.

“Already narratives are formed,
Already you distort the facts,
As if against your future self
You’re setting up a game of chess.”

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