so
so i like to update this thing
but i dont include any actual deep feelings or nething like that
i used to
i could always make a "private" journal
but really when it comes right down to it,
i figure that a journal with "Deep thoughts, etc", for me, right now, would not be a helpful tool.
i like the fact that if i have a shitty day, that the next day will come. there is no need to document the shitty days. and in fact, i dont find need to document the good ones. cause what's the sense, really?
but a journal is good for thoughts, for expressing ideas, and im all for that. im all for writing, as well. im all for reading. im all for anything that expands one's mind. for me, it seems futile. cause the only thought that i have that i could write about is what i long for, and what i dont have, and what i fear that i will never have. but honestly, what is the sense. and others may feel pity, and feel bad.
and when it comes right down to it, i live a charmed existance, but i dont think i know how to enjoy life properly. the urge and the sensation to enjoy it is there, but i just wish i had a personality in which i could just be happier, in a sense of the word.
whatever, writing all this junk has in no way been therapeutic, (instead it only stirred up shitty emotions, that i dont repress, i fully acknowledge, but whats the sense in feeling like shit) and therefore only confirms my previous theory of journal writing. fabulous.
but no hard feelings, journal. really. it's all good.
but i dont include any actual deep feelings or nething like that
i used to
i could always make a "private" journal
but really when it comes right down to it,
i figure that a journal with "Deep thoughts, etc", for me, right now, would not be a helpful tool.
i like the fact that if i have a shitty day, that the next day will come. there is no need to document the shitty days. and in fact, i dont find need to document the good ones. cause what's the sense, really?
but a journal is good for thoughts, for expressing ideas, and im all for that. im all for writing, as well. im all for reading. im all for anything that expands one's mind. for me, it seems futile. cause the only thought that i have that i could write about is what i long for, and what i dont have, and what i fear that i will never have. but honestly, what is the sense. and others may feel pity, and feel bad.
and when it comes right down to it, i live a charmed existance, but i dont think i know how to enjoy life properly. the urge and the sensation to enjoy it is there, but i just wish i had a personality in which i could just be happier, in a sense of the word.
whatever, writing all this junk has in no way been therapeutic, (instead it only stirred up shitty emotions, that i dont repress, i fully acknowledge, but whats the sense in feeling like shit) and therefore only confirms my previous theory of journal writing. fabulous.
but no hard feelings, journal. really. it's all good.