If you are reading this then I know that my work was not useless and that makes me very happy. My name is of no importance, as by the time you read this I am most likely just a rotting corpse in the ground. Or maybe I am in some other place that people go after they die, who knows. What really matters is that if you are reading this then you are most likely holding a piece of my life's work, or a volume of The diary collection.
I started collecting books when I was ten and stories that have never been written down I started gathering at the age of twenty three. Most of them were hard to get and I had to travel far and wide across the world for them, but this will not be the tale of my adventures. And I also don't intend to make this little introduction to long and boring. So now you should go ahead and read. I hope you enjoy reading these stories as much as I enjoyed gathering them and writing them down.
- An old story lover
In the corner of the page you notice something scribbled down. You have to hold the book close to your eyes to see it but finally you manage to read out the worlds.
the blood of a shadoW, the sIlence of sound,
the glow of the darKness and the soul’s bounD,
the whisper of mOonlight, the fRost in the fire,
the sOng of the voiceless, them all i adMire.
You wonder what it could mean but are not sure so you turn the pages and continue reading.
Blondiest Community Member 
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