March 29th, 2002

primary butterflies

random thoughts...

When I used to keep a paper journal somewhat regularly (if somewhat regularly means skipping and entire month here and there), I would ramble on and on for about 10 minutes with a stream of consciousness that was barely understandable to myself. I'd get out everything in my head, all the neuroses, all the whining and moaning, ask myself the questions I didn't want to answer. It was extremely therapeutic.

I've been starting to miss that. It seems to go in cycles; this isn't the first time I've felt this way, and I'm pretty sure I'm not alone in this.

It's different when you're writing something you know others are going to see; having an audience is a double edge sword: I write more often, but it doesn't help me as much, stress-wise. This is not to say it's not an awesome thing -- I've met so many incredible people.

But now that I mention stress, I realize there's been an overload of it in my life in the last month; perhaps this is why I long for my paper journal, whose contents no one is going to read, but me.

... I think it's time to go back to more private entries than public ones for a while.
  • Current Music
    John Mayer - No Such Thing