I have kept a journal for years. I am sure that at some point, that has come up in one of my posts before. It helps me mind dump before the day is over; helps me sleep at night knowing that I don’t have to pay any attention to the thoughts swirling around in my mind because they are already written down. I stopped writing (mostly) daily after I graduated from college. And I try to write most days in my pregnancy journal now..
I sometimes look back on where I was two or three or four years ago on that day… usually when I’m bored, or reminiscing, or “find” my journals after a move. Three years ago today I was counting down the days until summer, and until my wisdom teeth were to be removed. Two years ago today I was procrastinating final projects, and waiting to leave for Hawaii. Those were the days I would give everything to just hug my long distance boyfriend – who just happens to be my husband now. The days we still talked like best friends, would spend all our money on gas just to see each other for a weekend and counted down the days until we could be together every day.
I always thought what I had to say was so important, but it is honestly mostly whining about life, rushing through college and waiting for the future. The most interesting parts are actually the margins, not the posts themselves. I wrote the most random crap in the margins.. February 21st, 2009 :: “I hope my life doesn’t become.. “better in theory.”.. May 10th, 2008 :: “Life isn’t about you. It’s about the impact you make, if any at all.”
These journals are getting old. Ink bleeding through pages and they smell like a dorm room.I wrote about everything, anything that crossed my mind. I wonder if it’s possible, but I sometimes felt like I had more thoughts than other people. Like my mind over-complicated even the simple things and it was and still is a jumble of words on lined paper. There’s this quote that I have always felt suited me perfectly by Blaise Pascal, “I have made this letter longer, because I have not had the time to make it shorter.” I am wordy to the core. My english teachers in high school knew it and graded me down for it and I am wordy now, subjecting all of you, whoever you are, to random, long posts about nothing.
What do you care if I write journals? And who am I kidding, I know you have to “hook” your readers in the first two sentences or they get bored of what you have to say and move on. I should start saying really cool/random/weird stuff at the end of my posts just because of that.. Hmm.. I really can’t think of anything random, but I can’t get this off my mind :: “The trouble with being revolutionary and making waves is that sometimes a big wave sneaks up and tries to drown you.” – me, today.