Even though the computer allows us to document all of our feelings or thoughts, whether it be via e-mail or facebook, some kind of blog, or a word document that is used as a journal, i still feel like the most important thing i do in order to touch down with myself is keep a tangible journal. don’t be mistaken. when i hear someone say that they write in a journal, i immediately imagine them to be sitting at a desk each night, writing with a feather and ink, carefully coining each thought or confession that they are recording on leathery paper. this could not be any further from the truth about my journaling – in fact, i don’t even call it a journal. usually i refer to it more as a notebook for neurotic documentation. that’s what i am, a neurotic documenter. conversations, real or fake, single words, fears, song lyrics, lists for future plans or groceries. everything. i recently looked over a notebook full to the brim with neurotic documentation, and it is only from last year, when i was living in vancouver. COMMONER COLLECTION will be a regular blurb from the depths of this raggedy notebook. more embarrassing, sometimes sorrowful, often existential crisis-y brain manoeuvres to come.
COMING UP: PHOTOS
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LATELY IM:
--> reading my favourite book, "a complicated kindness", by canadian author miriam toews.
--> always sticking my head out of my window and people watching on my busy city street.
--> constantly walking everywhere, refusing public transit in advocacy of ma legs and smiling at strangers.
--> forever questioning what people mean when they say "that's just part of life".
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