Journals are my friends

I recently watched "The Fault in Our Stars," and it hurt watching it. It was one of those complex, good hurts though - the type that makes you feel a deep sense of gratitude towards the life that you have along with the privilege of time, of being able to make mistakes and grow from them, and so forth. 

It also made me think of my own humanity. My thoughts drifted towards my eulogy, and that I wouldn't want a flowery one. I'd want a honest eulogy from my very own Speaker for the Dead a la Enders Game. Yeah, if you haven't read it yet, go read it. And then let's high five to celebrate the awesomeness of the book and the shared experience we now have of partaking in the same story. I will give you one of those fake-out high fives though if you've only watched the movie.

Going back to the point of this post...
I guess, in a way, I see my journals as my eulogy, my Speaker of the Dead. They contain my life, my pains, triumphs, my moments of confusion and enlightenment. And I think I'd like to mix it up a bit and start sharing what's in my journals - on here, on this blog. Is that weird? I dunno. I think so. But weird can be good. Yeah, let's do it. As part of my journey to being more vulnerable to life, because so far, it's worked out pretty well.

So with that,

Hi! I'd like to introduce to you to my dear companions. I guess you can say that they are more than companions. They are a raw extension of me and the most direct account of my existence (it is directly coming from me afterall) for the past 19 years.

journals I've amassed since 1995.
I'll go through them and start sharing bits and pieces. The ones between elementary and high school are hilarious. They even include some insightful commentary specially written by my then-nosey older brother.

Here's to honesty, vulnerability and self-discovery. And to making most of what we have.

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