A Thought

I keep a journal. Or a diary, I guess it depends on how you look at it. A journal is something meant for others to read, and a diary is something private. It just sounds so much more girly though. Anyway, I keep one. I've kept one for as long as I can remember. I used to write in them then throw it away. But since 2004 I've collected them. It's funny how I can be brutally honest to some paper I'll probably never read again, but I can't be that honest to those closest to me. Or, funnier still, sometimes I lie in my diaries because I'm afraid I might look back on it, years later, and judge my young, adolescent self. I think a lot of those issues comes from being insecure. That, and I haven't had a good experience in speaking my mind. At least my journal won't yell at me then hate me forever. It's always been very good at forgiving me. Fun fact- my diaries have actually helped me get through some really not-so-fun years of my childhood. I was friendless, and my diary gave me someone (or something) to talk to. To share my thoughts and ideas, and, more often than not, to just simply go over my day, explaining everything I did that day and everything I plan to do tomorrow. Best of all, it lets me rant to it over and over and, with the exception of my hand cramping, it never interupts or stops me. Funny. It's kinda like I'm talkin to God. I'm talking to some invisible force, sharing my worries and just casually talking, expressing my hopes and my doubts, apologizing for getting off topic, and feeling comforted when I'm done. You know, I've never really been good at prayer, but maybe this is my own way of praying. That's something for me to think about...