I held my quill, dripped it in the ink, “My dear…” I started, and my heart was beating words, but, alas! That language was new to me, although it seemed like the reminiscence of a childhood dream, I was unable to decipher the letters flowing in me; their flow was too unsteady, like prisoners escaping their cage for the first time, so I let them out… As incomprehensible, paradoxical, or puzzling as they may seem, perhaps you can find in them something your heart can read, like the way my quill was stumbling upon the letters, drawing the lines of what the thought of you does to me, for my letter to you is no more than a heartbeat.
Maria Abi Aad
Ever since I was a little girl, writing has been my passion and my escape. I wanted a platform where this small voice - that usually dares only be heard by the notebook in the corner of my room - can reach out to the world. I have always been fascinated by this ability we have to turn a transient thought or feeling into something that could last forever and that could be communicated to any other member of our species who would stumble upon it. After all, we're one and the same, aren't we? Our hopes, dreams, fears, pain, joy are what make us who we are. This page is for you out there reading it, so I invite you to delve into this notebook as if it were your own. Welcome to my notebook. Many thanks to the creator of this page who made my dream come true.