9/23/02

Since I am cleaning out the office for my brother to move in...I ran across an old journal. I have several--this particular one started on my 12 birthday...a battered black and white speckled composition book with KEEP OUT and PRIVATE printed in big bold letters across the front. You know the kind. Anyway it confirmed one thing for me...I was one weird kid...and most likely I am still that weird kid.

Speaking of journals...i do have tons of them...this doesn't really count...well it does and it doesn't...but that is not today's subject. When I was a kid, it was mostly expected...I was supposed to keep a record of my life (in my chruch it's like the prophets had one --ie the bible and other such holy books--not that I am saying I am holy--...anyway...since the prophets kept one so should we...) so I have 4 childhood journals...kept infrequently. But when I was in college Nov 4 to be exact...I was seriously motivated to begin keeping one.

I think it was the only thing that kept me moderately sane during that tumultous time. I carried it around with me everywhere. I even wrote it in while walking--whenever the need to express myself manifested itself. So I have three and a half books full of daily (actually more than daily) entries. I stopped eventually. I guess when I no longer needed it.

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