Jour­nals for sale

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 2ad​vanced​.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!?!’.

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