In my end is my beginning...

Important events in my life take place on 25th .

I was born on Christmas day; I passed my A levels on the 25th of May;
I survived the final driving license examination on the 25th of July.
On different 25th's I met one of my loves and lost the other.
I will never forget some events I took part in when the number 25 appeared in my calendar and I have started writing this journal (on January 25th, of course) in order not to forget the others.

I also decided to found this journal to deal with the KEY TROUBLE and to find CLEF SOLUTIONS, which mainly means:

*To realize that I am capable of a creative activity which is NOT necessarily connected with pleasing someone

*To resurrect my love for expressing myself in written form, recently killed by my educators and employers

*To teach myself a bit self-discipline which is something school essay deadlines have not been successful at so far

*To forget that I am ill and cut off from my friends, musical instruments and the sun, whose company usually helps me to stay sane

*To stop wasting my precious time playing stupid addictive games and feeling guilty afterwards

*To stop sharing my feelings, worries, joys, epiphanies and insane ideas via cell phone with someone who does not appreciate it

*To replace some amount of post-unhappy love-passivity by a commensurate amount of great-expectations-activity

and dozens of other even more childish and/or self-centered things that are not worth mentioning.

Much more interesting question would be why I haven't start blogging earlier. There are many answers, including "I have". But I will leave the details for some other time. See? Another answer might have been "I was just leaving THIS for some other time."

It’s just my lucky number 25 that serves me as a suitable excuse to change something NOW. And rightly so, otherwise I would keep fooling around with the thought for three more weeks and give it the deep six afterwards.

Wish me luck, Agatha!