Hello
I am spread out all over the internet.
I started blogging before the term existed, in an opendiary I started in 8th grade. It is ridiculous to be able to read my innermost thoughts (that I posted on the internet) from middle school. I kind of think that the beauty of paper journals kept in middle school is that they decay or get lost or stolen or thrown away in a fight with a friend before a person reaches adulthood so you can look back on those years a little more nostalgically. For example, I know that my friend’s Nicole, Allison, and I passed a book of notes back and forth in the hallway of our junior high and I know (because these past on-line journals still exist in some form) that I was mostly an overemotional stereotype of puberty while writing them, yet I can separate these two truths and remember the books as completely undramatic.
Eventually, I got caught up in the demands of college and graduate school and was satiated by the instant gratification of facebook statuses and twitter updates where somehow I forgot the joy of blogging. Meanwhile, blogging became distinct from journaling and everything is all SEO and planned content. I just want to journal and be comfortable with the idea that no one reads its. I am embracing the fact that my life is often not interesting enough to blast to my friends in a microblog. So here it is, I’m back. I am opening a new journal.
Problem is, I never learned how a paper journal worked.