Journal

I, the most inconsistent journal keeper in existence (though unofficially), have just started my sixteenth journal in two years. You may be puzzled as to why this is, because if I am the most inconsistent journal writer in existence, how can I be on my sixteenth journal? This is because I have developed my inconsistency to the point that it borders on art. It takes talent and strategy to space your journal writings so far apart that by the time you feel the rare compulsion come upon you to pick up a pen and scribble down your innermost feelings your previous journal is lost, destroyed, stolen, or perhaps no longer as cute as you thought it was at first. Or perhaps you wrote down your feelings, because of the lack of readily available writing material, in an ugly spiral bound notebook, and who wants their journal to be an ugly little notebook? So you start over. That is the way my journal writing has gone for several years.

So I decided to type my journal. By typing my journal instead of writing I hope to decrease these dangers. It is harder to lose or destroy a computer than a normal journal, if it gets un-cute I can change the wallpaper, and although thieves would be more tempted to steal a computer than a journal, few thieves come prowling through my home. Few that I have apprehended anyway.

Occasionally I will come upon a journal that I have written one or two entries in, and I will sit reading for a few moments, vaguely reminiscing upon those bygone events. Then I will toss the pages in the trash, hoping to use the journal for more intelligent writing, although that never happens

Because I use the computer more than a pen, hopefully I will get around to recording things more often. Every three weeks or so. Then I might put it on my blog. But there is no promise.