I would like to start with, I’m not exactly sure who subscribes to this thing. I have used this space in the past and then stopped, deleted, started, and then stopped again. If no one is out there, that would be rather perfect. Occasionally, it’s hard to write when I know people are going to read it.
The thing is, I need a space. A space to put things. Ideas and thoughts. Things I need to remember or even things I need to forget. I need a place to break the rules, at least grammatically speaking. Yes, I know, a journal is exactly that. I get it, nobody wants to read your actual thoughts, that’s the whole point of a journal. You jot it down, shut the book, and carry on. I can’t do that. I find it to be a waste of paper. Heck, I thought about not using this blog again because it’s a waste of something—magnetic strips, disks, bandwidth, electricity, the limited spacebar pushes you get before it starts to stick with every stroke, and then you have to buy a new keyboard…
I need this to be out there. I need to push a publish button. I feel it would be better not to know who reads it, but I need to know it’s out there to be read. Not only that, but I don’t mind anyone knowing what I’m thinking. A real friend would either know it already or not be surprised, and if they don’t, then perhaps you haven’t been a real friend to them. So yes, read if you like, or don’t, friend or foe. I just need to feel like I’ve competed something and when I write in a physical journal all I feel is that I wasted something, and I can’t copy and paste.
I do really enjoy a paper notebook for planning and for lists. Scratching a task off the page is a joy. I don’t put my thoughts there, though, even though I wouldn’t mind scratching some of those out, too. You get the idea. This is a sketchpad, the back of a coaster, a sticky note, the edge of the newspaper, a paper napkin.
It’s also documentation. I used to enjoy Instagram for that, but I can’t be there anymore. It’s like living in a different world layered over this one. I want to spend more time in this one, the real one, but I do need to jot things down from time to time and I like that here I own those things.
Well then, a new space all for me, but you can be here too, just don’t tell me, and I won’t check.
The thing is, I need a space. A space to put things. Ideas and thoughts. Things I need to remember or even things I need to forget. I need a place to break the rules, at least grammatically speaking. Yes, I know, a journal is exactly that. I get it, nobody wants to read your actual thoughts, that’s the whole point of a journal. You jot it down, shut the book, and carry on. I can’t do that. I find it to be a waste of paper. Heck, I thought about not using this blog again because it’s a waste of something—magnetic strips, disks, bandwidth, electricity, the limited spacebar pushes you get before it starts to stick with every stroke, and then you have to buy a new keyboard…
I need this to be out there. I need to push a publish button. I feel it would be better not to know who reads it, but I need to know it’s out there to be read. Not only that, but I don’t mind anyone knowing what I’m thinking. A real friend would either know it already or not be surprised, and if they don’t, then perhaps you haven’t been a real friend to them. So yes, read if you like, or don’t, friend or foe. I just need to feel like I’ve competed something and when I write in a physical journal all I feel is that I wasted something, and I can’t copy and paste.
I do really enjoy a paper notebook for planning and for lists. Scratching a task off the page is a joy. I don’t put my thoughts there, though, even though I wouldn’t mind scratching some of those out, too. You get the idea. This is a sketchpad, the back of a coaster, a sticky note, the edge of the newspaper, a paper napkin.
It’s also documentation. I used to enjoy Instagram for that, but I can’t be there anymore. It’s like living in a different world layered over this one. I want to spend more time in this one, the real one, but I do need to jot things down from time to time and I like that here I own those things.
Well then, a new space all for me, but you can be here too, just don’t tell me, and I won’t check.