People selling their personal journals on eBay.
I thought about this and it reminded me of an old movie called Strange Days, where we experience other peoples memories and lives as if they were addictive drug highs.
I thought about what others would think of me reading my own thought life, and I figured it would be perplexing and perhaps monotonous with a side of boredom. I’ll be truthful here, I am a good writer, maybe even better than this but even if I were to add polish and pop, inundate my day to day with so much flashiness and action (which is, as it happens my usual method of adding cajun spice to it all) I find that only when I write simplistically, real, and in digestible manageable tidbits, it just works.
Here you don’t have to buy my handwritten journal, it’s all on my personal blog.
I don’t really journal these days to work through issues and pinpoints in my life. I used to, I used to get so emo and brooding on my pages, lol boy did I bring new meaning to the word dramaking. Rambling and wallowing in a comical fashion, ‘why’s such a hot stud like me so lonely!’ hahaha. I felt as a director trying to piece together his own perfect version of a Korean drama. I was the type who had to come up with fanciful infographics and charts to weigh and measure the various aspects of this or that girl I was interested in, never listening to my actual self. Like I could somehow negate any undetected, unforeseeable flaws. Never bothering to analyze my own fair share.
Yet journals for me were more than a flighty, shallow siren’s call for attention and affection, but a vehicle for self discovery, a tool for improvement, and the ultimate weapon in a renaissance mans arsenal. Many a guy disses and dismisses it as being the stuff of strange and weird habits, primarily because these were weak beings who never could grok the deeper mysteries. They remained in shallow waters and wondered why they always inevitably wound up with a certain type of female or a particular lot in life. Ignoring the fact we were called, by divine right and providence to become better men than our fathers, to be the last action hero of our own stories, to rise up against this or that that dares to try and negate our own sanity/prosperity/contentment/destiny. No, these sorts of haters don’t do anything but mock, bully, and regulate life into a caveman type of dog eat/dog world, seeing strength as weakness and weakness as strength.
My first blog was called Timecapsule, it was on blogger and I hosted my own website using ftp. I had somehow procured a following from some girls that attended Columbia college. It was primarily about me and my boys romping around Chitown in pursuit of beautiful honey babies and looking for love in all the wrongest places, power drinking, gambling, and stupid human tricks. My best friend at the time joined in the fun and got into it too. That was the height of it, and eventually I went on my own and continued with a few more unsuccessful endeavors. I couldn’t find my niche brand, I couldn’t get too engaged with it, I wasn’t one who sat still well, who was glued to the computer talking about living life I should actually be living in realtime, not as an intellectualized abstract.
Around this time I became deeply fascinated with web, and studied code religiously. I dissected and tore apart my favorite sites which were K10K.net and gmunk.com, as well as a few others. My boy Hank aka Goldenboy and I would make our own variations of the ultimate impressive incarnation of a flash based website like 2advanced.com the most overhyped, convoluted web guy that the entirety of the community somehow despised for his insane luck at the time. Some people get hit with crazy luck, blessing, and people be hating on it wondering ‘why ! why!?!’.