I have this habit of keeping a journal. I’ve written about six journals till now, I started when I was eleven. Just a month back, my last journal got over, and I didn’t have time to buy a new one. I still am not finding time (or money) to buy the perfect journal to start putting down all my thoughts in.
You see, I have too many thoughts. And I sometimes feel like there isn’t room for all of them in my head, and there are so many of them that they’re all bunched up and tangled around each other and I can’t make any sense of them. That is the reason I write. Writing gives me clarity of thought, it helps me clear up the chaos in my mind. It gives me an escape by not escaping.
I write when I’m upset, I write when I’m happy, I write when I’m angry and I write when I’m bored. My best friend once told me that I was lucky that I could channel my emotion into something like writing, and let it all out – “If I’m upset, that last thing I’d feel like doing is writing or drawing or anything, I’ll just be like screw that shit, I’m going to sit in bed and cry. Not write or draw or something.” I guess we all channel our emotions in different ways. And the way I’m most comfortable with is writing.
My journals aren’t boring. They have a lot of photos, chocolate wrappers, small stories, labels, tags, sketches, lists of songs, post cards and other such random things (apart from all the writing, of course) – small fragments of my memories. My journals are very dear to me – not because they hold all my big secrets and all those sorts of things, but because they helped me get through a lot of things merely by being there to listen. Because they helped me let things out and ease my mind, because they helped bring order into the chaos inside my head, because they helped me remind myself of my goals and dreams and that I have to keep pursuing them.
I don’t know how you let things out. I don’t know if you even want to let things out. But I do want to sometimes, and this is how I do it. Maybe keeping a diary is too boring for some people (hey, to each his own!). I don’t really write in it every day – sometimes the interval between two entries might even be a month – but i can’t do without it. Because without a diary/journal/some special personal book to write in, I go so insane, and my mind becomes a real mess. I remember there was a time when I wanted one so bad it drove me mad!
I hope I get time to go out and buy myself a new one SOON.