(no subject)
We drove back without music for the seven hour car trip, enjoying each other's company and mostly the sound of my awesome voice. But as unbelievable as it may seem, even I can not talk for seven hours without stopping to rest. These were the moments I used to contemplate, when the sun stroked my arm and attacked my eyes through my sunglasses, I would silently squint and listen to the ticking of my brain.
I evaluated my journal during these moments, and realised that I would never show this to any of my real life good friends. I thought about this for a long time, and wondered why it was that I felt this way. I realised that as a real person, I am embarrassed of this journal. I am ashamed of the way I write and some of the things I write, and some of the things I pretend to think. As a real person, this journal is not me.
Why then, do I feel the need to write these things and share them with a group of people that I have never met? Why do I feel the need to join some sort of internet popularity contest? Why am I a different person in this journal? Why do I let it suck the life out of me? Boredom, undeniably, is a large factor. Lonliness is another. I pondered these things because I realised that, after this weekend, if I really did move then not only would I not need my journal, I probably would not even need the internet.
I don't know why I became this way. I don't know when I stopped writing for myself. I know that I would show my older, anonymous journals to my best friends because I am proud of my writing and the memories I have captured in those journals, and most of what goes into this livejournal is completely unecessary.
So I altered history. I went back through my calender and deleted all the entries I felt were not real. I kept the entries that, when reread, reminded me exactly what I was feeling on the day I wrote them: what I was wearing, where I was sitting, what the weather was like, even what what I could smell. I friended the entries that I felt were mediocre, but captured certain dates I wanted to remember. I privitised entries that I was extremely embarassed of, but also captured certain things on days or dates I wanted to remember. I kept those entries that I was myself in.
I made my journal respectable to me. Although I still don't think that right now it is something that I would readily share with my friends and people I know, I will at least try to maintain this respectability and stop disappointing myself so much.
I evaluated my journal during these moments, and realised that I would never show this to any of my real life good friends. I thought about this for a long time, and wondered why it was that I felt this way. I realised that as a real person, I am embarrassed of this journal. I am ashamed of the way I write and some of the things I write, and some of the things I pretend to think. As a real person, this journal is not me.
Why then, do I feel the need to write these things and share them with a group of people that I have never met? Why do I feel the need to join some sort of internet popularity contest? Why am I a different person in this journal? Why do I let it suck the life out of me? Boredom, undeniably, is a large factor. Lonliness is another. I pondered these things because I realised that, after this weekend, if I really did move then not only would I not need my journal, I probably would not even need the internet.
I don't know why I became this way. I don't know when I stopped writing for myself. I know that I would show my older, anonymous journals to my best friends because I am proud of my writing and the memories I have captured in those journals, and most of what goes into this livejournal is completely unecessary.
So I altered history. I went back through my calender and deleted all the entries I felt were not real. I kept the entries that, when reread, reminded me exactly what I was feeling on the day I wrote them: what I was wearing, where I was sitting, what the weather was like, even what what I could smell. I friended the entries that I felt were mediocre, but captured certain dates I wanted to remember. I privitised entries that I was extremely embarassed of, but also captured certain things on days or dates I wanted to remember. I kept those entries that I was myself in.
I made my journal respectable to me. Although I still don't think that right now it is something that I would readily share with my friends and people I know, I will at least try to maintain this respectability and stop disappointing myself so much.