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The opinions expressed in this article are the writer’s own and do not reflect the views of Her Campus.
This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at SBU chapter.

Dear notes app,

You memo pad, you. You are everything to me. You hold 660 of my original thoughts. That would be too much for anyone to bear, yet you do it with grace and efficiency.

Your sleek dark mode draws me in, a cavern for secrets. The white letters illuminate against the black page, burning my retinas when I am up at 2 am writing poetry.

You are not only sexy, you have layers. You can be sorted by date or title. You can be viewed as a gallery or list. I can search for a keyword and you will find my sister’s ex-boyfriends brothers Netflix password that I have to retrieve every so often when my Netflix says “You are not a part of this household”.

Your versatility is remarkable.

You are my to-do list, my unprecedented shower thought container, and my document scanner.

You know what I am going to say in my next therapy session and you know what I was thinking when I drank a little too much that one night. You know when my last period was and every workout plan I have begun and abandoned.

You were there when I was emotionally volatile and needed to plan out a risky text before going to iMessage.

You contain endless links to illegal websites where I can pirate textbooks and novels.

You have the data for social experiments I like to administer every few months when I feel so inspired.

You have nearly 40 quote pages so I can look back on all the silly things said during freshman year and on vacations.

You store the bucket lists I never complete, prayers I have been praying and morsels of inspiration that encourage me throughout my days.

You contain the glossary of my language (kimlish) and all of the Scottish jargain I learned while visiting the UK.

You help me plan out my Christmas gifts, self-diagnose my idiosyncracies, and keep track of all the movies I must watch.

Most importantly, within you there is poetry. There is truth. There reside the thoughts that never make the journey from my mind to the tip of my tongue. There is no judgment, I can write how I feel.

When I die a New York best-selling author for a coming-of-age poetry novel, they will come to you for my old work. So be on the look out!

Now that I am thinking about it, notes app, I should really password protect you. With all of this information, I could be committed to a mental institution, exposes could be written, and profit could be made.

Anyway, you have all of my love and devotion and my personal information.

Write back soon if that’s something you are capable of,

Kim

Kim Mitchell is a member of the SBU Her Campus chapter. This is her second year writing for the site. Kim covers advice and experience pertaining to college life and emotional well-being. She also covers popular media such as trending telivision shows and books. Kim is currently a senior at St.Bonaventure University. She is pursuing a bachelor of arts in psychology and a spanish minor with aspirations to attain a masters in clinical mental health counseling. When she is not writing you can find Kim singing in her church's worship band, outside enjoying nature, or curled up with a good book. She is always down to challenge you in a game of Mario Kart, knowing full well she will probably be in last place.