Journals

When I was  a self-centered dramatic teenager I was given a journal.  I went home, opened the journal and wrote exactly how I got it.  It was the most boring entry written in the worst handwriting possible with a plethora of spelling mistakes.  That was the day that I started journaling all my angry thoughts.  Bad handwriting, spelling mistakes, and an inability to stay on topic or even finish a thought filled this wide ruled book.  It wasn't long before I lost interest and moved on with my life, but it was not the end of journaling for me.

As a freshman in college dealing with my first boyfriend, my first breakup, my first academic failure, and my first realization that I was losing who I was, I went straight to the bookstore and picked up a journal.  Once again I wrote down all my angry thoughts in bad handwriting and a sea of spelling mistakes.  I was better at staying on topic but still could not finish an entry.  Looking back I see my immaturity and dramatic ways written between the college ruled lines and think,"Did it actually help or did it just fuel and accentuate my emotions?"

To that I do not have an answer, but I can say this.  I have been journaling consistently since that day and there is no greater joy then being able to look back and see how much I have grown and matured as a person.  In some ways it helped me work out some confusing and emotional times as well as be able to take a step back and realize my own faults.  Most of all it helped me with my writing skills.

Whenever I hear someone is stressed out or dealing with a lot of emotions I always tell them to write.    Galileo said, "All truths are easy to understand once they are discovered; the point is to discover them."  Journaling helps me do just that.  It is my release, it documents my ups and my downs and allows me to realize when I was being dramatic.

Once again I filled a college ruled book with my thoughts, stories and emotions.  When putting it away with all the other journals I couldn't help but pick one up and begin reading.  It wasn't long before I closed it shaking my head thinking,"Oh lord.  It was not that serious."  But that is life.  Dramatic.

Till next time.

Bald frog wears a wig.

I'm bored and it's late so i'm writing this.  Blogspot asks random questions to post on your profile.  Odd, but why not.  So my first question was tell a children's story about a bald frog who wears a wig.  So this is what I came up with.

Once upon a time there was a frog who was bald but soo desperately wanted hair so he went and bought a wig.  He strutted around town with this wig feeling on top of the world till he began noticing all the odd looks and snickers he received from his non-bald neighbors.  It was then that realized that he was only jealous of what they had and didn't really need this wig.  He was perfect just the way he was.  THE END.

of course the story was too long and I moved on with me life.  At least this way it doesn't die with me.