Yes, today I am probably going to write a lot, because it's always my fascination for new things. This web site thing is great. I lost my pen and paper journal the other day, just a couple of thoughts and writing exercises. I do realise however, that I may be a little impersonal at times, in the sense that I am not writing what I actually feel. i have always found that hard to do. Just some thoughts on journals anyway. My dad commented on a diary of mine when I was 13...it was pretty filled up the first few pages, and then it faded to white nothingness. Lack of time, I said. In a way, nobody writes The Divine Comedy or Paradise Lost anymore. Times have changed, yes, and we have modified poetry and such to suit our needs. Perhaps I am not persistent enough. But the real reason I suspect, is that I am uncomfortable with writing, because it lays the foundations of misunderstanding. It is inevitable for all forms of communication, even with oneself! I flinch with embarassment at certain episodes of my life, although I thought I knew perfectly well what I was thinking at that time. Anyway, some thoughts on journals.

If my notebook is to be in order, I must, as it were, step straight out of doors from it - into life- and not have to climb up into the light as if from a cellar or to jump down onto the earth again from a higher level. (Ludwig Wittgenstein, Austrian philosopher)

I thought, perhaps 17.5 is a rather old age to start chronicling one's thoughts again, considering many friends, mostly female ones however, have kept them for a long time. By a clever twist of irony, I have found so many books recently about people who have started diaries at 17, Plath, Wittgenstein, etc. Perhaps I am not 17 years too late then. O how much I have forgotten by now.