English, asked by shailendras1968, 5 months ago

write an autobiography of a notebook​

Answers

Answered by LEGEND778
2

Answer:

I’m Notebook. I’m writing my autobiography to tell you all about my life story. Like all other notebooks I’m a one clean and a neat notebook. Just like all other people notebook life is full of ups and down.

Childhood:

Once upon a time I was a hero but with time my glory faded. Before my owner’s story started I was just a bundle of papers lying on a bookshelf of a local bookstore. I didn’t have any knowledge and my papers were all white and soft. I waited too long for my customer to arrive and one day a small boy came who was looking for something. I never saw such an innocent boy in my life who wore a smile. That boy scanned all the bookshelves and when we both saw each other it was the joyous part of my life.

When he took me home he felt very excited and taps his soft hands on my white pages. Then he wrote his name with a black pen at the front page. It was like the start of the journey which will last for the lifetime. Days passed and I was filled with his thoughts, inspirations and even emotions. At times he wrote the most joyous moments of his life one can imagine and other times he wrote all the grief and sorrows he had to encounter in his life.

Best days:

For many years we lived together. I know all of his secrets like his bad friends, devastation caused by his girlfriend and a long list. I was the major part of his life for so many reasons. Like all other people my life is also coming to an end. Now my owner is writing on my last pages. When my life will end he will definitely buy a new one to accompany him for the rest of his life. As today when my journey has ended I’m very thankful and grateful to my owner. He taught me all the positive vibes. This has proven to be the happiest day of my life. He left a very emotional note at the end of my body which goes as:

“I will miss you so much. You proved to be my best friend through all the times.”

Explanation:

Answered by hearhackerakshitha2
19

Answer:

was once a good-looking notebook with clean white pages bound in a beautiful cover. Now, from my pitiable present with half-torn pages and scribbles all over me, I can only live in the memories of my glorious past.

was once a good-looking notebook with clean white pages bound in a beautiful cover. Now, from my pitiable present with half-torn pages and scribbles all over me, I can only live in the memories of my glorious past.Anyway, let me tell you my story from the beginning. I started as a medical record book for a boy named ‘X’ in a clinic called ‘AB’ Poly Clinic. But X stopped consulting the doctor at the clinic ages ago. The reason being that the doctor started treating him for a kidney problem the first time he went there. (He had actually gone to consult him about an infected wound!) But, I remained with the boy’s family. Now I am an all-in-one scribble book. I’m kept on the computer table in X’s house. Everyone in the family abuses me without mercy. Oh! How I despise these people. My beautiful white pages and clean green cover are now covered in blue and black ink (if not other colours.) I am used for scribbling everything from phone numbers to homework assignments. I especially dislike the boy’s sister who finds it enjoyable to draw in every corner and scribble on every flap. The rest of them are almost equally bad.

was once a good-looking notebook with clean white pages bound in a beautiful cover. Now, from my pitiable present with half-torn pages and scribbles all over me, I can only live in the memories of my glorious past.Anyway, let me tell you my story from the beginning. I started as a medical record book for a boy named ‘X’ in a clinic called ‘AB’ Poly Clinic. But X stopped consulting the doctor at the clinic ages ago. The reason being that the doctor started treating him for a kidney problem the first time he went there. (He had actually gone to consult him about an infected wound!) But, I remained with the boy’s family. Now I am an all-in-one scribble book. I’m kept on the computer table in X’s house. Everyone in the family abuses me without mercy. Oh! How I despise these people. My beautiful white pages and clean green cover are now covered in blue and black ink (if not other colours.) I am used for scribbling everything from phone numbers to homework assignments. I especially dislike the boy’s sister who finds it enjoyable to draw in every corner and scribble on every flap. The rest of them are almost equally bad.I suspect that it is almost time for me to retire. My pages are running out. Most of them are torn out, especially the last ones, which lie in tatters. X’s father has been bothering his daughter to replace me with a new book, which will undoubtedly reach my plight one day. My sympathies are with you, dear successor!

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