
Lately I've had a lot of things on my mind. Unfortunately, I am not ready to release most of them to the cyber world, not to mention to about three of the people whom I know read this blog.
Growing up I was a very dedicated journal writer. Looking back now I realize that was both a curse and a blessing. There's a lot I learn form my past self (sometimes I think maybe I'm the opposite of progressing...) and sometimes the stuff is just lame, embarrassing, or totally worthless and makes me seem like a freak for even writing any of it down. But the one thing I love most about it is that it's the most raw version of me, in any given moment. This blog, as opposed to "look at how picturesque my life is" family blog, is kind of like that. And there are a lot of reasons I don't mix the two.
You see, I'm a very emotional journal writer. In fact, the Mr. always teases that I only write in my journal when I'm mad at him, and if he catches me doing it, will shower me with apologies for whatever he did wrong. It's only half true though. The problem about being an emotional writer is that not every emotion is positive (which can be scary if you're equipped with the weapon of words) and when you are that emotional it definitely can stand in the way of logic.
In this day and age, I find it hard to pick up a pen and actually write on blank pages. My hand starts cramping after less then three minutes and it makes me wonder if my children will ever physically "write" things in today's expanding technological world. Not to mention, now that I have a blog (or two or three) the journal thing has kind of fallen by the wayside. The great thing about this is that I am still good at documenting events and such and it makes it so easy, but the drawback is that while you get a glimpse of my life, there is really no platform for me to expose my soul; the good, the bad, and the downright ugly. And here's the thing- aren't we all this way? Isn't there still so much we conceal and hide because we don't want to voluntarily be so vulnerable?
I think of all the times I've spent re-reading old journals- crying, laughing, rolling my eyes- sometimes the way I feel about something in the present comes to a new light when I read about the way I used to feel about something. It's almost as if I understand myself a little bit more. But looking back on my blog books, I don't get that kind of depth, everything is just pretty platonic. Sure, there are things that bring back good memories and occasionally sad ones, but there's no real hearty substance to them.
But you can't just go writing whatever you want and let the world read it! At least... I can't. Perhaps it's my own self awareness, or my lack of confidence, or fear of judgement. Whatever it is, it holds me back.
So, that's the reason I can't won't write about all the things that have been on my mind lately. But I do know this- they are shaping who I am. You know all that hype about thoughts becoming your character? It's occurring to me as we speak. Not all my thoughts are positive or maybe they are just a bit cynical, and some of them are very positive and uplifting, but they are definitely changing the way I see the world, the way I see myself in this world, and the way I see others in the world.
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