Journaling



There are many things that we don’t want others to know no matter how good a friend we have. That’s where journaling kicks in and I started a long time ago when I was a kid. I guess it was because I’ve been the only kid in the house and my mom was never home. It was so quiet and I had no company but books and paper and pens. I started writing very horrible poetry around seven or either. I started writing journal entries whenever I was upset by something that happened at home or school.

Journaling became an essential part of my daily life. I carried my journal everywhere with me. I wished during my childhood days they had already came up with Wreck This Journal, I would have brought every single one of them and went nuts. I decorated my own journals at first with sharpies then markers and then started doing this horrible sketches of failed cartoon characters on them or sticking these random stickers I found around the house from food products or the ones that come in the mail. My third grade teacher confiscated my very first journal because I wrote profanity on the cover! Talk about not knowing any better! D:

I pulled out my box of old journals a few days ago and noticed how what I recorded started to change as I gotten older and entries gotten longer. The things I talked about changed and I visually saw how I matured and changed through each journal. It was like reliving my childhood, teen years, and early twenties over and over before my eyes. I laughed at how foolish I was, cried at the sad memories, and savored the sweet ones.

The human memory is strong when we are young and never fails us. However, when we reach mid-age and our memory starts to deteriorate, when we want to recall a certain memory where will we go or whom will we turn to? Not everyone likes video recording or taking photos. I’ve always felt that writing it down in a journal and keeping it forever and ever is the safest way possible. We we are our own teachers and the more we go through we become teachers to others. That is why I’ve always felt journal keeping is us recording our own life lessons, our experiences of the highs and lows that life can throw at us. Everyone’s lives are relatable in some way if not exactly the same.

My grandma spent nearly nine years at a nursing home and I watched her as she slowly lost her mind and memory. I wanted to help her find herself again. If she had kept a journal, she would probably be able to recall a little. Words are powerful sometimes even more powerful than a photo. When I was rereading my journals, running my fingers against every word on the page, it felt as if I was leaving parts of me behind when I die someday.

When people ask what I love the most other than family and friends, I just laugh and say my books and my journals. Because friends complain when you rant to them too much, a journal on the other hand will listen and listen and never say anything in objection. A best friend, a place where I can lose myself in and that was how I got through most of my childhood.
A journal holds our most precious memories, our most unforgettable memories, our bittersweet memories, things you never want anyone to know but possibly the one you love the most. You can pour out your heart, your soul, be completely open and yourself in the journal without holding back in journaling. People may complain it isn’t private or they’re scared other people will read it. Well, find a better place to hide it then! In my opinion, it’s more powerful and meaningful than any video recording or photo.

Don’t let journaling scare you. I actually still do crazy stuff with my journals such as pressing leaves and flowers into pages and drawing crazy sketches, and taping in anything cute I come across on the street or things that come in the mail. It is your best confidant and a part of you that cannot be separated from. That’s what journaling means to me.

Here’s just a small collection of the journals:


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