March 5, 2015: “”Everyday I’m Journaling”

Why did this come about today?  Why am I sharing something extremely personal?  Why am I showing what I perceive as vulnerability?  I don’t know.  I wanted to shoot a different image that had nothing to do with journaling and collecting my life in the pages of a book.  Today at some point it triggered in my head to write a letter to you, to express myself in a journal entry.  This here is that, I randomly opened a few on my many journals on my lifes journey to share with you random contents.  I did not censor or change pages.  The 4 open are readable and writings from different points in my life.  The only thing I could have done differently was use the hardwood floor to add contrast an tone rather than the carpet.

By right clicking on photo you can open in a new tab to enlarge and read entries if so inclined.

As I went into my cabinet and began to pull out the journals I was amazed at how many I had filled.  I have always put my thoughts in the journal.  They are filled with a lot of negativity, self hatred, loathing and depression.  They are also filled with happiness, love, hope and dreams.  They are filled with the gamut of human emotions.  They contain poems, rants, letters never sent, and even stories I began to write and never finished.  I have a love for writing over talking.  In all reality I would rather write a letter than speak to you.  In my everyday life I don’t share much, I am quiet and observing.  To learn about me you have to ask questions or I may just sit in silence.  I don’t like to talk about myself, feeling any action I am taking is not meaningful in the big picture of things. 

I speak in a matter of fact type of a way.  I put more importance on actions to help the world than anything great I may have done.  These journals contain everything I was ever afraid to say.  My mixed up life is full of fear.  As a result I am content with a status quo.  In every journal I see the same trend that would make me clinically insane.  I have been doing the same thing my whole life and expected different results.  The change I have never attempted to create has me stuck, my inability to ask for help and truly share myself are holding me back.  I share myself with these journals.  My best friends are books where I can take on the roll of whomever I want and get lost in an adventure.  My writings are my poorly taken adventure. 

Everyday I’m journaling I see growth in all but the way I want to grow.