In particular cases, when a moment is fleeting and ready to be forgotten, I'll write in on a scrap of paper for safekeeping. A napkin, a sticky note, a torn piece from a paper- whatever is at hand. Some become lost, some are placed strategically in a box under my bed. They are permanently in the world for me or someone else to find one day.
It is difficult for me to write to myself, let alone online, for anyone to see. Even now, I am writing about not liking others to read what I write. This is not innately personal. But there is some anonymity to it. My dreams, my thoughts, my day to day events- they are safe here, where no one truly knows who I am, which is, perhaps, the appeal of blogging. There's a dissociation between the reader and me, where a computer can save me from critics. So, who cares if someone knows my fears, what I love, my emotions, if they don't truly know me?
In a personal, only-for-me-to-read diary, there are no actual rules; I don't think. The purpose is to reflect, so as long as that is continued throughout the writing, grammar and personal details don't seem to matter. But as soon as someone crosses the boundary of personal writing to having an audience, the rules shift. But it truly depends on the intentions of crossing the boundary. If you don't intend to have a post every week or have a loyal audience relationship, then grammar and other menial things don't matter. If you want people to like what you read, to visit your blog every week, then grammar does seem to gain importance.
However, as they say, everything online is forever. Regardless of your intentions, it may work better to stray to the side of caution, especially in the cases of giving information regarding others that could harm safety.
A private diary has the possibility to be written in a stream of consciousness method. A public blog Again, it depends on the author's intentions. In Anne Frank's Diary, she wrote intending for her diary to one day be published. It was written with structure, not filled with random thoughts that popped into her mind as she wrote. But my sister's diary that I found when I was ten? Incoherent- random thoughts and feelings written with no intention of being read (maybe now you can understand my trepidation for wandering eyes one day finding my own journal).
But, people have innate curiosities. This is the only explanation for the existence of blogs that I could think of. Town gossips, social media, and memoirs- they all exist specifically to fulfill the desires to see into another person's life. It could give them the ability to be in another's life, to see from their eyes, if only for a moment. It could reassure them of their own life choices, give them confidence, and allow them to find joy or inspiration. For me, I like to read memoirs. The Only Girl in the World, by Maude Julien, was the first one I ever read, and it sticks with me today. It gave me an insight into her strange, and sometimes horrible, life. I could see how she thought, how she now reflects on the events of her past, and how she grew from it, allowing me to reflect on my own experiences.
So, now: do I share my life, or do I keep everything to myself?
I understand the nervousness with sharing your innermost feelings and thoughts - even with my own physical journal/diary, I always had trouble actually sitting down and putting how I truly felt along with the more sensitive topics about my life. There was always the underlying anxiety about what if someone read it or had some way to get it from me, and learn all the things I always had under lock-and-key. While I agree that others' memoirs and journal entries can be extremely interesting and help us reflect on our own experiences, I disagree that having a journal/diary means anything more than writing; to me, it's the same thing as people use Twitter, Facebook, and other social media sites for, a place to write about your life and yourself whether other people read it or not. Just like all those other things though, what you write can come back to bite you.
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