A re-post, from September 25th, 2005
Journals for me were always a way to relax. To get things off my chest. To calm myself, get negative thoughts out of my head and into the world, a rant that no-one but me would read, when years later I went over them and realised it was all futile, trivial crap. Reading back over my journals makes me feel better, like my life is really not all that bad, and that when it seemed to be, it never was.
When I found the world of blogging, it was supposed to be just that, but instead of hiding it away, let it loose unto others, seeing if that in some way made it different, perhaps more therapeutic, perhaps making me feel more real and important, like so many others who went before, leaving engravings and painting on cave walls, books and scrolls buried for future generations to find and admire. A way to become immortal perhaps.
Instead, my blogs always became digital wanking. Me listing things that I had done, rambling about my surroundings, struggling to be witty. I’ve pondered over journals. Is it possible to make them interesting if you lead the same life week in and week out? Can journals only be appealing if you have a non-stop flow of visual and physical stimulation? Or is it simply a reflection of ourselves. Do we come across as wankers only when we are just that? Wankers?
Constantly struggling to make my journals more interesting has made me aware of something about myself. I’m not really trying to make my journals more interesting, I’m trying to make myself more interesting. Make mine a life that others can look at, relate to, learn from. I’ve thought my life was boring, felt a need to amplify things that happened to me so it seemed my life was filled with extraordinary events and people.
But what if it is? What if my life really is interesting? What if I don’t know it because I’m living it? I have nothing really to compare it to. I get bored with myself, think my life is growing stale, but I suspect even people such as Alexander the Great thought the same thing. Yet others look at his life and stare in awe. Perhaps a part of the human condition is not only to better ourselves, but to prove to others that we have done so.
My god. Getting so deep and meaningful with only one glass of wine. See what happens when you leave me alone on a Sunday night with nothing but a bottle of white and an ‘Absolutely Fabulous’ dvd?
Digital wanking at its finest.