This is a challenge. I'm stretching here. I signed up for NaBloPoMo and I'm going to try to do it. A post a day for a month. I have never been a consistent journal-er. I found my very first diary in a cardboard box in my parent's attic a few years ago and I laughed when I read it because nothing has changed. I started out writing every day, pouring out my little heart one minute and just writing "laundry lists" the next . . . for about six days. And then nothing. Blank. Until about 18 months later and it starts again. I still journal that way. I'm obsessive for days, sometimes a few weeks, and then I stop cold turkey, pick it up again months later and pour out my little heart again. I think I'm boring. I think I don't have anything to say. I get stuck. I flake out. Two years later I start again. So we'll see how this goes. I really want to write every day. I'd love to get some more poetry written. I want to find the story in the little details. I'm committed.
But then again, I always start that way.
Dear Diary . . .
No comments:
Post a Comment