Week 2: To Be Known

As writer Tim Kreider wrote, "If we want the rewards of being loved we have to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known".

The quote by Tim Krider is one of my favorites. I look back to it all the time when I feel myself starting to overthink my relationships. It has always reminded me that love encompasses all the bad aspects of your personality as well. If you love someone for their laughter, wit, and kindness, you will also love them through their anger and pettiness. Not that you will ignore these flaws but acknowledge that as flawed humans we are always working towards being better. 

I don't think I would destroy my journals even if I was afraid that they might be read. My journals are written for myself and they are an exploration of my thoughts and feelings. One of my biggest flaws is that I tend to ignore what I'm feeling till it weighs me down so heavily I can't move on. Keeping my journals and being able to look back on how I was feeling at certain times would be a gentle reminder that as a human being I have been able to experience everything on the spectrum. Also, I don't ever want to be ashamed of my writing unless I'm actively trying to belittle someone in my diaries. It's ok to feel sad or embarrassed or lonely or angry. My journals are a place to deal with those feelings in a healthy manner.

Having someone read my journals would not be something I would actively support. Especially my family, I think there are certain parts of my life that I don't feel the need to share with them. With my friends, it feels more like they are my equals and that there is less that I would keep from them. However, I don't think I would want them exposed to every thought that goes running through my head. I might share parts if I thought my written words did a better job of explaining myself or if they wanted an answer on something. If I choose to share them with someone, it would be with the hope that this person desires to understand me and is willing to read with an open heart. When I die, whoever inherits my things will hopefully have instructions on what to do with my journals. Maybe I'll share pieces of myself with my loved ones and take the more intimate bits to the grave. 

I am horribly curious at times and I always want to know what others are thinking, but I'm well aware that no one owes me their thoughts. So unless someone gave me permission, I wouldn't read the diary of someone else. Even if the desire to relate to someone is good-natured, you have to have someone who is willing to share those parts of themselves. 

Week 2: Let it Burn

So we have to think about what we would do if we had a journal. 

Do you destroy it?

Absolutely. I have written things that I would never want someone reading. I write about my feelings, events that have happened to me, stuff like that. I have no one that I would want reading that, aside from people who already know the things I write about. I will not destroy them. Someone will once I die, and it will be my friend Kayla. She will not read it if I specifically ask not to. 

Will I read someone else's? 

No. Unless they tell me to. I believe that what people write in their journal is private. If it is online, they are writing in hopes that someone will see it, and that does not count. 

Week 2: A Fat Mess of a Funeral

I have a vivid memory of a time when my friends were over at my house when I was about 15, and I was doing something in one area of my room with my friend, "Alice", and then I heard my other friend, "Veronica," who had busied herself over by my bed, say, "Aw, Emma, are you okay? You know we love you, right?" Alice and I, who were probably playing Animal Crossing, stopped and thought, "what the hell is she talking about?" and once I looked over to her, my heart dropped. Veronica was holding my black notebook from Urban Outfitters, that had little black and white skulls, and band stickers on it, and I recognized it right away. It was my diary.

While Alice and I were doing some very important business on our Nintendo's, Veronica had decided that it was okay to reach into my drawer, and start reading my diary. During this time I was going through my emo phase, and I had been writing a lot in this diary about all of my angsty feelings. It wasn't anything of importance, I was just complaining about things and making a big deal out of nothing. Plus, since I was in my emo phase, the music I listened to only amplified my sad thoughts. I wasn't necessarily sad, and nothing in there would've been about her, or would've showed anything other than a melodramatic Paramore fan, so I knew she didn't get anything valuable out of it, but the act itself was enough to make my blood boil.

I probably should've seen this as a red flag, since 6 years later, Veronica and I have had our fair share of falling outs. I was upset by the blatant violation of my privacy, but she didn't see what the big deal was, because she's a textbook narcissist, so I let it go. Ever since that day, I've always had a paranoia about keeping a diary. I am so terrified that I will write about someone and then they will find it, or that someone will read my embarrassing emo thoughts, when I'm not looking.

At first when I read the prompt, I instantly thought, yes. I would love for my kids to one day be able to read my thoughts, just like how I would love to read my parents diaries. Then after reading through the articles, my mind quickly changed and I was reminded of that faithful day in my room with my friends.

I would absolutely hate it if someone read my private thoughts, even if I am long gone. I don't have anything to contribute to the world with my diary. I haven't lived in some crazy period in history that wouldn't be documented in the media, and I am not someone who would have some profound outlook on life.

In the article, "Some day someone will read your journal," the author talks about how most diaries consist of appointments, and recordings of things that happened during the day, and for me that would be a wonderful thing to read over by myself. I like the idea of a diary being just for you and no one else.

What if one day, my boyfriend does something that annoys me, and I write about all my negative feelings about him? Nothing that would warrant a break up, just petty complaints, just to let all my anger out. If he read that, he would no doubt take it the wrong way, and it would be a big deal. I think everyone needs their own private thoughts, so you can get over it, and move on with your life.

The idea of my family and friends reading my diary after I die, just sounds like one fat mess of a funeral. If my whole family and all of my friends (besides the 3 of my friends who can literally do no wrong) read my diary after I died, it would reopen so many scars from the past, that shouldn't have been reopened in the first place. My first thought was, imagine how much drama this would start. During my parents divorce I wrote some nasty stuff about both of them, so I could keep myself from getting angry at them during a difficult time. I already know if my mom read that, she would bring me back to life, just to kill me again.

I definitely would not leave it up to someone else to decide what happens to my diaries when I die. Doing this prompt has opened my eyes a bit, and I realized there's only one person in my life who I know wouldn't read my diary if I asked, and that's my brother. If I told him to burn my diary, and not to read it, he would do it, no questions asked, and he would tell everyone else after the fact. Even if he did take a quick peak, he wouldn't find anything of interest, or he would open up a page about my desperate love for Tom Hardy, and would close it immediately, not wanting to tarnish the image of his little sister forever.

It's not to say that I would use a diary just to talk bad about my whole family, but I wouldn't want them speculating about me postmortem. This point was echoed in, "Why you should never read someone elses journal" and in "Burning your diaries," who both discussed the idea of your loved ones thinking that these thoughts, your worst times and your most miserable thoughts, are how you felt when you died, or even all your life. They could think that there was something they should've or could've done at those points in time, or feel guilty about how you felt at that moment and I wouldn't want that at all.

I wouldn't want anyone speculating about my death or about certain times that they recognize from the diary, and I think a lot of things should just be left unsaid. Sure, if there is something you want to say to your loved ones, you can always leave them a letter, or even like the article, "Some day someone will read your journal of record" said, you could write an autobiography that exemplifies who you were, how you want to be known.

I would read other people's diaries though. Is that hypocritical? Yes. But, how can I resist? We are all so nosy by nature, and that is precisely the reason why I don't want people reading my diaries, and why destroying them sounds like a much more appealing idea to me now. Even if I left them in the hands of a loved one and told them to not read it, and to just destroy it, I'm sure they'd take a quick peek. I know how badly I'd want to read my parents dairies, even if they told me not to, and I know I probably still would if they told me to destroy it, because I can't help myself. Just like how the writer in "Burning your diaries" put it, "diaries are irresistible. And I am an unregenerate snoop." I think we all are deep down inside, it's our instinct to try to understand things we don't know, to be curious about the things people hide form us, and to speculate on things, that probably have nothing to do with us.

Week 2: Let it go

I should note to begin with, that I have never kept a journal and do not intend to. I generally spend so much time in my own head, that I fear any further self inspection would be unhelpful to say the least. If, however, I ever had or ever choose to, I don’t think that someone else reading over my thoughts would be a problem for me. I don’t have anything that I would be so concerned about keeping to myself that I’d feel it necessary to take with me to the great beyond. If a friend or family member should choose to read my writings then so be it. Perhaps it would give them comfort to hear my thoughts again. I don’t have any opinion on the destruction of my writings. I suppose I would leave that to the discretion of whoever it is that is tidying things up, so to speak.
As for the second question that was posed, I would definitely want to read their diary but I don’t think that I would. Although I am a relatively open book, this other person might not be. As such, reading their private thoughts would feel like a violation of their trust. If they were as open as I am, I would feel no need to read it.

Week 2: Privacy, why can’t I have Privacy!

My entire life I have been a very private person. I have been that person that doesn’t want to share unless asked to, and even then don’t want to share much. Growing up I remember there being times when I wanted to be left alone to be me and not worry about anyone around me.  

Being the oldest sibling in my family, it has been hard to ever get privacy. There have been times when friends come over and I just want to hang out with them in my room or downstairs, but again no privacy from my younger brother or my parents. I understand and accept that I am a girl and that my parents want to protect me but, protecting me does not mean that there has to be an invasion of privacy. 

So what does privacy mean to me? It means being able to enjoy and explore my own life. I know that my parents and my brother want to see the best for me. I know that my parents do not want me to go down the same path they went, or better yet want me to have a better life than they did. I appreciate that and value that my parents love me so much to be concerned about my life and the choices that I make. However, that does not mean I am not entitled to my own privacy. 

 So what is it that I want from everyone around me is to let me be me. Let me have the opportunity to make mistakes and learn from those mistakes. I am not asking to be left alone and not cared for but to be seen and to be seen as someone that will make the right decision when needed. So please let me have privacy! 

Week 3: Burn, Baby, Burn

Burn, Baby, Burn

I always thought that if someone who was important in my life read my journal I would die. But I also thought that if anyone ever read a book that I wrote I would also die, but they have and I am still very much alive. When I am dead, I don't want my children snooping through my journals and finding out who I really am, because the person in my journals isn't who I really am. When I write in a journal, I scribble down rapid thoughts and feelings that I myself don't understand yet. I'm a pretty calculated person; I think carefully before I speak and act, and sort of take pride in that. I wouldn't want my children, or whoever was reading my journal when I'm dead to think of me otherwise.

It might be a pride thing, actually I know it is, but why would I want someone to read my most vulnerable thoughts when they know I would never in a million years share them if I were alive. Whenever I have a disagreement or argument with someone important to me, I usually have to step back and spend a few days thinking things over. Not for important things that need quick responses, of course, but I have a lot of deep rooted anger that I haven't quite worked through yet, but most of the time I step back because I need to think it through. With my journal, I need to work through things before I openly share them with the world, or someone close to me, for that matter. I would never go lurking through someone's private journal, because I wouldn't want someone lurking through mine.

My friends and I had a tradition back in middle school where we burned all of our homework from that year. It was a tradition I was always excited about because I hated school more than anyone. We would grab our thick binders and make our way over to the fire pit. Then we began tossing in our essays and tests and math homework, laughing and roaring with excitement.

Will I destroy my journals one day like I did my homework? Absolutely. I'll make myself a cocktail, douse them in lighter fluid, throw a match on those suckers and watch them burn. Heck. I'll even sing the chorus of The Trammps "Disco Inferno". https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A_sY2rjxq6M

Week 3: Burning the Past

I can't say if I would be able to sit down and burn something I put work into. Having spent a lot of time being depressed and ripping up or deleting work that I've done with art or writing, I just feel a deep sense of hurt whenever I do it. There's something about destroying a piece of history - even if it's only personal history - that just hurts; at worst I'm breaking something that doesn't deserve to be broken and is better than it seems to me at the time, and at best I'm just being petty. Honestly, I think it would be best to let your journals and personal thoughts be most of the time. However, that chances depending on the context and point of the thoughts.

A good example of when I'd be okay with burning parts of whole diaries is if it was a darker time in my life; I've done such a thing, like cutting my hair after letting it get way too long during depressive episodes, tearing up papers with all sorts of negative connotations written on them, or even burning them if I'm not in danger of burning something else on accident. It's a catharsis I suppose, being able to sit down and metaphorically erase the past in a way; which for some people, I assume, it would be very nice. A sort of nail in the coffin, to say that "this part of my life is over". That, I can get behind, but otherwise I think destroying the past doesn't really solve anything besides momentary catharsis. If anything, the past should be preserved in order to be learned from. After all, if you don't learn from history...

Week 3: A Forged Fragment

In the future, I would definitely wish for my loved ones to read my journals when I pass. The main reason being, at that point, it is not about my own desires. I will not stir in my grave if my privacy is breached by someone else reading my personal journal. What matters most is my loved ones receiving closure on my death, by having one last piece of me or understanding my thoughts or feelings. It would be instrumental in the grieving process to have something of me that can help them make peace with everything, when I am no longer around to give answers.

Besides that, journals are a way of immortalizing oneself. In just one or two generations, all records of a person will disappear. No one will remember you personally, besides as a name on a tomb. But in a journal, thoughts and emotions can live on forever. Even if it is simply as a single page in a anthology of journals in the distant future with no name attached and only a guess on time period, it will be enough for me for someone to acknowledge my existence.

Week 3: Trust Issues

Not for one second do I believe that someone wouldn’t read my journals after my death whether I asked them to or not. Call it paranoia. Call it overdramatic. Call it trust issues. But among all the banes of human existence, curiosity is certainly one of the strongest.

 

When I journal, I free write. I use it as an experiment, not really paying attention to craft, style, or grammar. That writing isn’t something I’m proud of, and I would most definitely never publish it. To burn 40 years’ worth of journals though, like Dominique Browning admitted to in her article for The New York Times, would make me hesitate.

I don’t doubt that anyone who stumbles upon them would read my diaries in a heartbeat, especially if I wasn’t around to catch them at it. However, I’m not sure this actually bothers me that much. As Miles Kington states in his article for Independent, “you shouldn’t be keeping a diary” if you want to keep its contents private. There’s certainly something to be said about privacy as a virtue, and I do consider myself someone who keeps their cards close to their chest, but honestly, once I’m gone, who cares? My biggest concern with someone else reading my journals is potential embarrassment. I can’t blush if I’m six feet under.

So, while I’m not proud of what I write in my diaries, I wouldn’t go so far as burning all of them from the last 40 years of my life (regardless of the fact that I’m still well below that age). Like I said, I don’t think it would matter to me all that much if people were to read them after I’m gone, but I also don’t think I would have the heart to destroy all of those emotions. Or at least the physical representation of them.

You see, writing in a journal is like therapy for me. I write out everything that’s going through my mind— what’s bothering me, what I’m stressed about, why I’m angry at my friend, how I’m worried about my sick cat— and afterwards, I feel better. I feel like I’ve gotten something off my chest, and sometimes, journaling even helps me understand something about myself that I didn’t before I wrote it all down.

Having visited a therapist at least twice a month every month in the last three years, I can tell you from experience that therapy is hard work. Talking about things you’ve buried for as long as you can remember is hard work. Changing yourself is hard work. Journaling, for me, is part of that hard work. Although it’s not something my therapist literally “assigns” me, it’s a lot like homework. It helps me apply the techniques I learned in therapy and continue working on myself outside of my bimonthly sessions. Through this, I’ve pushed myself further than I ever thought I could go, and I don’t want to just throw that all away. Even if I never read them again, my journals still represent something valuable to me, namely a journey towards self-discovery.

As for reading others’ journals, I would like to think I would never violate someone’s privacy like that, but unfortunately, I’m also human and therefore innately curious. Especially if it was someone I was close with and/or felt was keeping secrets from me, I might just take a peak. But Jenny Alexander brings up a good point in her blog post about reading others’ diaries (or rather, not reading others’ diaries):

"If you read someone's journal... you will not find the person there, and thinking that you will could give you every which kind of wrong impression."

Someone's words do not define that person. Their thoughts, feelings, struggles, concerns, etc. do not define them. Thinking otherwise will lead you into dangerous territory. A writer does not leave themselves behind on the pages of their journal— these are merely impressions of the writer. Just like looking at a fingerprint can never tell you all that much about someone, their journals probably can't either.

Perhaps it's best to leave them be.

Week 2: Holding Onto Journals is Holding Onto the Past

I've never really kept a journal.  There are points in my life where I've been emotionally stressed and writing about it was easier than confronting the cause of my stress.  So, in those moments I have written diary like entries and kept them aside.

Generally I'm pretty open about my feelings and I don't really care who knows what about me.  But when I write about myself it's usually because I'm angry about something or someone.  Those are the entries I don't want certain people to see because those writings are in the heat of the moment.  I'm unforgiving and hostile when I write with anger and I know that that's not the whole picture.  If someone were to read those it would probably change a lot about those specific relationships.

It's also because I'm so open about my feelings that I have a lack of privacy when it comes to other people's writings.  It sucks, but I'm a snoop.  I like knowing how others are feeling, what's going on their lives, it helps me to understand them.  I would never mention anything they wrote about to them of course, but in the back of mind I at least know more.  It doesn't sound great or make it right, but I like seeing how people really think and feel.

And it's on that note, that if I kept an actual journal I think I would burn it or at least throw it out at one point.  Not exactly because I don't want people seeing it, but more or less because I would feel burdened by its presence.  I think writing a journal and holding onto it is like holding onto the past.  You can't keep it, and if you try to you'll ware yourself out.  I can't imagine having stacks upon stacks of entires about my life.  I wouldn't ever feel the need to go back and look through them and it would just be a lot more work than it's worth.  Burning your journals would be like a cleansing, a release of any resentment, anger, sadness, guilt, whatever you may have felt in the past.  It'd be a way to forget and forgive and start over.

Week 3: Don't burn my diary, publish it

Although I do not keep a consistent diary I have a collection of places I keep my writing. Documents on my computer, a multitude of journals filled with poems, lists, and thoughts and Every English class notebook from fifth grade to my senior year of high school. Although the idea of someone reading my journal now is mortifying to say the least, it does not mean I don't want people to never read my journal, just maybe not now. I like many others am terrified of what death brings, and I want a piece of me to live on. Your life story can only exist in other living beings for so long before you are too long gone in a lineage to be remembered. But hypothetically your words could outlive you for centuries. I read the New York post article about the women who woke up and just decided to burn her whole life. Every feeling and though from seventh grade into her 30s gone in a few seconds. It breaks my heart thinking of all the thoughts and dreams that will now die with her. Although I don't think its a good idea to read someones diary well they are alive, once they are dead it can be a great insight into who a person is. But I do believe there are some exceptions, as I am also a fairly nosey person. I want to be able to get peaks into people lives, so if someone gave me the opportunity to read their journal I would probably want to. There are some people who are so magnetic that you are willing to read their grocery lists. When I was reading Sylvia Plath journal I felt at home, we had similar thoughts and experiences. She had a magnetic feel to her that I truly got to feel when I read her diary. This may be an unpopular opinion but instead of burning my dairies I want someone to publish my diary when I die. Pick out all the best bits from my diary over the years and let me become a posthumous nationally recognized writer. Although I probably share all my ideas and dreams with half the population I don't think I could ever let those thoughts die with me. I would want them to be shared.

Week 3: To Observe Attentively Is To Remember Distinctively

As I began writing this post, I had planned to share a personal example from my life to express the emotions I feel as I contemplate this weeks prompt of whether I would rather destroy my diaries or save them. Upon writing about my memories of this personal example, I quickly found myself abusing the backspace button of my laptop until I was left with a blank screen once again. I found myself fearful of the idea that I would share something personal about my life experiences to be read by my peers.

Before I began writing anything at all I was torn between my decision to destroy or keep. Could I really decide to destroy something that would be filled with anything and everything I have ever pondered, wished, reflected on, documented, cried over, laughed over, or loved over? But at the same time, could I really decide to keep something like that? Out for the taking, first come first serve! If I am not there to play the game of duck duck goose for who can or cannot sift through the physical pages of my mind, I am not so sure if I am sold on the idea of saving the thing either.

Ultimatley, as I found myself nervous just to post about my personal experiences on this community blog, I have realized that the act of saving my most intimate thoughts for someone else to read without my knowledge proves to be extremely unsettling. Yet, I still don’t think I would be able to partake in the act of destroying it either…

An idea expressed in the article “Burning Your Diaries” by Dominique Browning really resonated with me and I understood why she would engage in the act of setting fire to her journals. She had stated that as her sons are growing older, she fears they will begin to snoop and possibly come across her diaries (in which she assured they would most likely end up reading). For these predictions led her to destroy the bindings of the paper she used to record 40 years worth of memories, good and bad. She defended this decision in stating that she ultimately would rather her sons not read about the lows of her lifetime one day, and she would prefer that they remember her as a strong woman and mother. In my opinion, her backing for this decision seemed almost like a selfless act, where she sacrificed the documentation of a lifetime’s worth of memories in order to spare the emotions of her son's that would follow had they known all of her life’s secrets.

In a perfect world, I wish I was able to cut a hole in the wall of my bedroom, shove my diary in there, and replaster the wall like nothing happened. Like planting a seed, this idea would allow my thoughts to live in the insolation of my house for eternity. It would also save me from the terror of another individual ever having the opportunity to come across my writings. Like Browning, I would want those I love to remember me at my best, although I cannot be me if I neglect to acknowledge my worst times.

Maybe the sole act of writing out my thoughts in a diary would allow me to memorize the better ones so I could always keep them with me.

Week 3: Burn Before Reading

I will absolutely be destroying my journals and diaries one day. I have carried them around with me through various stages of life, and went through some very difficult things that I don’t typically discuss with others. I would not want anyone to read my most private thoughts. I would not be comfortable leaving their disposal in someone else’s hands. The purpose of using a journal for me is to unload. Ambitions, fears, plans, things I want to change. My secrets. Bad choices, good choices, and things I have yet to decide. 

In Jenny Alexander’s blog she mentions that her journals hold the exploration of all the different versions of herself, new ideas, new questions, that she has yet to come back to and decide what action she will take. This spoke to me as well. My journals hold so many questions about my life and what would happen, food recipes I want to try, places I want to see, pages filled with travel itineraries and hotel pricing and flights. The light topics of planning life. However, struggling with mental illness is something I have experienced for most of my life, and much of my writing is about that. My anxieties, no matter how unreasonable. My fears, no matter how unjustified. I am pretty levelheaded and functional but I prefer that no one see me in my darker moments.

Another reason I will burn mine is because I know, just like Dominique Browning wrote in the New York Times, that I am incredibly nosy. Snoopy. I devour information about other peoples’ inner thoughts. You should never read a person’s journal. I think if someone goes missing, or a child is having serious behavioral issues, perhaps a teenager using alcohol and drugs, law enforcement should read it to gain insight on the person's life... but never that person's family members or friends. It can lead to all sorts of issues for you and the writer, and it is ultimately not worth it. People are allowed their privacy. Their own space to process their daily lives and the chaos of the world.

Week 3: The Burning Question on Everyone's Mind

     Over the years I’ve written in a diary/journal/notebook. Most of the time I’m writing to work through challenging points in my life. When I’m feeling down, lost, sad, confused, or hopeless I will turn to the written word to get out what’s weighing on my mind. Or, at times, when I’m doubting myself or my choices in life I’ll work through those things and try to find hope or inspiration and give me the courage to get past the things that are burdening me. I’ve never turned to a journal post to express negative sentiment about someone or bad mouth the people in my life. So, thinking about how I’ve used journals in my life to date, I don’t think I’d really be too concerned with destroying them…and while I don’t think I’d ever voluntarily offer it to someone to read (after all, they are my private thoughts), I wouldn’t be that bothered if someone had found them and read them.

     The author of the New York Times article titled “Burning the Diaries” wrote, “My soul lived in my diaries, and that weighed on me; by the time I was in my 40s, if I died before I woke, I wanted someone to snatch my diaries before anyone else did.” If I were dead, I honestly could not care less if someone read what I wrote. 

Maybe some of the things I write would be a little “surprising” to a close friend/family member reading my thoughts, but for the most part I think that it would give the person reading it insight into who I was. I would hope that the person reading them would find something interesting or of value. Maybe they would learn something about who I was and the things that I was thinking about in my life.

     Maybe I’m strange in this regard (and you might not believe me when I write the following words), but I wouldn’t read someone’s diary if I found it and they were alive. If someone I knew – parent, spouse, friend, sibling – were no longer alive and I found a diary or journal they had been keeping I would probably want to read it. Not out of disrespect, but to get to know a piece of them better. I would want to understand what they were thinking and dealing with. I feel like it would bring me closer to them and give me insight that I hadn’t had before. Is it strange that I would consider it an invasion of their privacy to read their diary when they were alive, but it wouldn’t be if they were dead? Does privacy end when the soul departs the body?

     I guess a good rule of thumb, as the author of “Some Day Someone Will Read Your Journal of Record” put it, “The only thing you have to decide is what impression you want to create, and write your diary accordingly. For instance, if you are having an affair and don't want your partner to know, don't mention it.” You shouldn’t write anything you don’t want someone to know or read. If you’re concerned with what someone will see or think, then keep it locked away in the private vault known as your head.

Week 2: Read my Journal if you Dare

Traditional diary is not necessary, but it could be considred a better choice when it comes to free writing. A traditional diary allows for the writer to express their thoughts without having to re-read; being able to speak freely and openly. However, with the change in traditional writing there now becomes the idea of writing about yourself online. Writing about yourself online can be more intrusive than what the writer would want. Writing online opens the writer up for more feedback and the information written about become a public record no longer a private record like traditional diaries or journals.  The issue becomes sharing too much personal life experiences online, allowing others to know more about your personal life which could open up more doors than what the writer wants to open. Once the writer opens up this personal storyline there is the opportunity to overshare too much information. 

People are so intrigued to read other peoples journal post, why is that? Is it because we as a people are so interested in what everyone else is doing? Or we are interested in what others are experiencing?  Journals are more than just words on a paper, instead the thoughts and ideas of what others have done or are experiencing at a given time.  

So the question is not why are people interested in others' journals, but what can someone elses journal tell me about my own life?  When writing a journal the goal is to write freely not worrying about grammar, punctuation or meaning. Instead to write what is on your mind in an honest form, hoping to spark an answer as to why! 

Reading a journal provides a better understanding of what someone else has experienced so that you as the reader may not experience the same in your own life. The journal is a road map to what others have been through and what you as the reader has experienced similar to that individual. Many times the goal of reading a journal is to find some means of how the journal relates to your own personal or professional life experiences. These experiences that the reader has may connect with the journal that is being read, providing a better understanding as to the “why” and “what” needs to be address to prevent from the opposite of what the reader expects in his or her own life.  So again it is not about the interest in the journal but the relationship that the journal has toward the readers current or future life encounters. 

Writers, write to write a story. They do not write in an unconscious mode that only the writer knows about. Instead a writer writes in a mode or tone that the reader will understand hoping to gain empathy from the reader and knowledge to be able to recognize what the writer has been going through on a daily basis. 

Writing in a journal should not be a concern at all for the writer. The concern should be if the material being written is authentic and has meaning to the writer and the reader. A writer should not be concerned with grammar and writing when free writing. However, as the writer becomes more intune with what he/she wants to share with the audience, then the need for grammar and other structural aspects of writing need to be added into consideration. Writing aspects from traderional has changed a little bit but not as much as many think. The reason is because when writing online the writer is focused on the length and if anyone will read. Where from a traditional standpoint the writer only cares about the message and what the message means that is being communicated to the reader. 

Week 3: The Lifespan of a Journal

What if you could read into the way someone thought? Their secrets and hardships being displayed in expressive words, in front of your very eyes. No gimmicks, no lies, just raw material at your fingertips. The average individual has some spark of interest when it comes to hearing or reading about the inside scoop on another individual's life. We tune in to reality television shows to get the latest feed of drama and thrive on knowing what someone else is dealing with. It is truly a weird concept if you think about it. I don't think it is right to read someone's personal journal entries if they do not give you permission to, but I do think it is a way for someone to live on after they are gone. I don't think I will ever burn, shred, or throw away my diaries and journals. I would want the people who love me to be able to look through them, and see what I was thinking. I want them to see what I went through. All of my hardships, all of the things that made me happy, my accomplishments, I want those thoughts and memories to be able to live on somehow. I think diaries are a way for a loved one to live on, and even a useful way for people to cope with the loss of an individual. In a way, they are memoirs. They hold all the memories of an individual that is truly priceless. I myself would keep and read diaries of past loved ones, I think it would create a sense of closeness to someone who is not even physically there. The disposal of these priceless memory holders is up to the writer. In a sense, it is their property so ultimately the person who wrote it has a say in what happens to the piece. As for me, my friends and family have full permission to read into my mind when I am no longer around, but in the meantime the entries are for my eyes only, and my way to continue to evolve as an individual. The lifespan of a journal is truly endless.

Week 3: Up in Flames, in a Dumpster, Fed Into a Shredder

Diaries and journals are indeed irresistible. How we all wonder what one another is thinking, to settle our curiosities as humans- and then, there it is! An entire person's life- their thoughts and fears and emotions. Everything they love and hate about the world. Everything kept together in a single, tempting book tied with a leather ribbon, pages worn from use. 

Though it was tempting to read my sister's diary when I was ten, and she was twelve, I'd reconsider now. If it was not something they intended for me to read, then I would not read it, just as I hope they would do for me. Maybe a person writes with a hope that someone will read their journal, maybe they write to list their days methodically, maybe it is a form of self-soothing. No matter a person's intentions, subconscious or otherwise, for my sake and theirs, I could not read a person's journal. As Jenny Alexander writes: the person will not be in there. The person you know or knew is different from their own perception- written in a journal or otherwise.

If I was daring enough to keep a journal, I certainly would not allow it to be in the world for long. It is hard enough to express my emotions to the people I care about most- but the most embarrassing and dramatic aspects of my life sitting around for anyone to read? No, thanks.

The content would likely be derived from my emotions. You may ask, what exactly is my most frequent emotion? Well, anger. Anger at my parents for not letting our dog out. Anger at my sister for ordering guac instead of salsa. Anger at my friends for canceling our plans again. All irrelevant and frivolous now, but a much bigger problem then. It would simply not be fair for anyone to read. 

Somehow, they would be destroyed. My family, as sentimental as they are, could not be trusted to destroy them, to leave them be, or simply decide what to do with them. 

So, up in flames, in a dumpster, or page-by-page fed into a shredder. Maybe all three. 

Week 2:what ever happened to privacy?

I do not keep a journal.

I thought about it so many times, and I think its a wonderful idea. To sit down and get all your thoughts on a piece of paper, whether it's virtual or physical, seems like a great way to sort out your mind. However, I do not think that putting it online is necessarily a good idea. once something is online, that is where it lives for eternity. there is no way to truly delete something, it is always there is one form or another. At some point won't you lose the reason why you started in the first place? If you start posting because you feel like you have to, is there a point anymore? starting from that moment, you lose your sense of purpose when it comes to journaling online.

On the other hand, when it comes to reading other people's journals, why do we do it? Is it to study other cultures and other ways of life? Or is it a way to escape the lives we live in by reading all about someone else's? To read someone else's stream of consciousness is a way to run away from our own problems and thoughts for a bit.

In saying that I also think that most people who journal write from a stream of consciousness, but I do not think that should stop other people from learning about this person's mistakes or goals. It is said that we have to make mistakes before we can learn to not make them again. What if we learn from other people's mistakes instead?

Grammar should not matter in an online journal. I feel as though if someone would not care about what it would look like on paper, they should not care what it looks like on-screen either.

Week 2: Are my ideas not good enough?

Most of my life I have had some crazy ideas, from political ones to ideas about where to put the picture on the wall. I like to be heard, and for most of my life I have not been heard. I was always the guy who people would shut up, or shout over, or berate into submission when my ideas were deemed too "stupid" or a "waste of time". Having heard this for years on end I would after a while start to down talk my own ideas and tell myself that "you need to shut up, stop being so stupid". Anyone who has experienced this will know what I mean, and for everyone who doesn't picture this. Imagine that every time you speak there's this voice in your head screaming at you, down talking your ideas and telling you that your ideas hold no merits. this is what I experienced throughout elementary and middle school, and it was hell.

Ideas are an interesting thing to me. Some people are paid for their ideas, they are expected to lead us forward with their ideas and we hold them in such high regard. But where does that leave the rest of us? Anyone who is not an idea maker is relegated to the back burner, and we are just expected to go along with what the idea makers say and not question it. That is beyond ridiculous to me and is completely going against the ideals of America.

Going into high school I decided that I would stop letting people tell me to shut up, so I started to speak out and give my opinions whether people wanted them or not. I began to identify with the anarchist school of thought, and I made it very clear. Now let me explain what that means so no one gets the wrong idea. Anarchism as a school of thought is all based around the idea of systems and people serving the overall needs of the people, and having the ability to dismantle those systems that do not help the people. This thought system revolves around the belief that the people need to help each other and should not rely solely on a system or a group in order to survive. People often think that it's all about pure chaos and hell raising, but in reality it's about controlled chaos in order to better serve the people.

Nowadays I find myself much more able to share my thoughts and opinions because I realized something. Ideas are things that people owe to other people. You owe your ideas to the world and the world owes it to you to listen. If we all of a sudden started to shut ideas down and ostracize people for their ideas then we begin to fail as a society. I learned the hard way that you need to share ideas and opinions, even if it means pissing some people off. If you don't, then you're doing yourself and society a disservice.

Week 2: We Look for Ourselves

For the past five years, I've kept a daily question journal by my bedside. It was a fun activity that I would do before bedtime with silly questions like, "If today was an animal, what animal would it be?" or serious questions like, "Can people change?". Not only did I get a short moment of reflection but I got to see my answers from the years before, and they either made me laugh because I was such a different person or because my answer hadn't changed at all. This casual diary inspired me to start writing in an actual journal. Most of my recent passages are my meandering thoughts as I work through a problem or an idea. I think I'm forced to be kinder to myself when there's the risk of having to read back my thoughts. 

I was also inspired by the words of Zadie Smith, “The very reason I write is so that I might not sleepwalk through my entire life”. The days fly by so quickly that I wonder where all my time has gone. I really don't want my life to be something that just happens to me. Also, it is inevitable that there are some downs in life, and I would rather face them wide awake then wait for them to pass in a protective daze. 

For me, the idea of translating my innermost thoughts to a public space is unnerving. I wouldn't want all the worst bits of myself up for anyone to see and judge. At the same time, I have a deep appreciation for people willing to put themselves out there. I love reading about the very best and worst of humanity because naturally, I come across someone who has found just the words to express something I have always felt but have never been able to vocalize. As humans, we are silly and judgmental and mean and jealous and unreasonable. Facing that part of ourselves makes it easier to work through and heal. Pretending it doesn't exist just means it stews in a dark, quiet place until it bursts out. 

I think we enjoy reading other people's stories because we want to find someone who's willing to speak the truth. The one we would never talk about if someone else hadn't come forward first. I also think we like to read other people's stories because at our very best we want to connect with other people. We want to cry with them, laugh with them, and get angry with them. So, while I do think there is a danger of putting so much out there that all the feedback has a negative effect on our sense of worth and identity. However, we seek out stories from other people so that they can guide us through a time they've already experienced. That sense of community and support is invaluable. 

My writing style tends to be a stream of consciousness, I don't want to stop and lose my train of thought because I was perfecting a sentence. Most journal writers also take this approach, although there are a few who prefer writing their diaries as a cohesive story. I would say that you can still learn from the thoughts of someone else and that it doesn't necessarily have to be a narrative for you to gain something. Sometimes my favorite lines are the ones that exist on their own and aren't part of a greater arc or story. 

When it is a personal diary in your possession and there is no fear of anyone accessing it, I think you should be as true to yourself as possible. That also means that your priority might not be spelling and grammar. Since this is a space you've built for yourself, you should be able to enjoy that freedom of expression. Whereas, when you are writing in a public space and you know you will have an audience, it is important that you are communicating clearly. It is also important that you do not reveal things about someone who doesn't want to share their story online. Being accessible to people means you have a greater responsibility about what you write and who you write about.