designdebris

THOUGHTS
I think a lot, I can't help it. You'll find out soon enough.
(normally when doing something mundane)

I've always wanted a diary.
A daily diary of me, kept in a nice book. Where I could write anything I wanted and be safe from everyone. Everyone equals my brother. He would be in my stuff always, bugging me totally. I felt I never had any privacy as a kid because of him. I still don't really like him to this day. I'm nearly 30 now. So, anyways, a diary. Now I'm out on my own in life, I seized the opportunity of a free leather look 365 day diary. and decided that the year begining january 1st 2003 was the right time to do it. Not a big deal for most people I'm sure, but to me it was a desire I've had for 16 years.

So far I've stuck to it. Everyday I have an entry. Sometimes with great detail and sometimes with a few words. But always and everyday for sure. I've gotten quite fond of it. I still forget sometimes and have to think back a few days to add an entry, but normally I do ok.

The thing that I love the most about keeping a diary is being able to recall the whole year (so far, cause it's only April at this time of writing) in detail. The memories it triggers in my ever forgetful brain is wonderful. I have quite an imagination as it is, but this daily log triggers off those grey(ing) cells.

In reading my past days, I've noticed that it isn't a secret diary, there's nothing in there that I'd be afraid to show someone. It's a diary of events in my life... just simply what I've done and what I plan to do. It's isn't readable... or it is readable but not engrossing enough to share and be enjoyed by a total stranger. If you were handed it, you'll probably find yourself skipping all the pages, in a quest to discover the 'meat' if you will. It's good that I've noticed this. Because I'm not happy with these writings. It harps back to the days when when I lived with my parents as a kid and my brother would aways be in my things. I couldn't have secrets, I wasn't allowed, he would find them and tease me. But I wanted them, I had 'secrets'... or at least thoughts that I like keeping to myself. Now I need to relax and write. Not necessarily share, but to write as me, the real me. "don't I write as me then?" you might think... No I don't... I feel like I always have my guard up, that self-protection mechanism, and now I need to learn to drop my 'guard'... there's nothing to protect myself from anymore. I need to start thinking how I want to and not how I think I should.

It's proving harder than I first thought. But I have to stick at it... because it's the real me. I have things I want to say. They don't need to be shouted or read by anyone, because these words are personal. I just need to be able to do it period. For me.

Of course though as I am a 'web dude', all my wording will inevitably end up being public, on a website somewhere. But not advertised here. I have a domain name already selected, and my alias's choosen. Thanks to Google, 'hiding' on the internet somewhere isn't as easy as you think, if you know what you're searching for. I want/need to be annonymous. I can't write any other way at the moment. There will be a time when I can, speak my mind without this childish fear of backlash, but now isn't the time. Someday though, and someday soon for sure.