The last time my sister Laura stayed with me, she took a few minutes out of each evening to write in her prettily-bound diary. "Do you keep a journal?" she asked.
My mind clicked into gear: do I tell her that I write to a potential audience of millions of web users? is what I do here really a diary? My utterly ambiguous reply was "Sporadically." That was exactly the right word, in more ways than one. If you've been reading for awhile, or take a peek at the archive index, you'll see that there are certainly times that I am more prolific than others. I feel slightly guilty about that, since there actually are people who read regularly, and then wait weeks when I'm not in the mood. On the other hand, journalling has always been that way for me. I'm not one of those who has a neat row of filled books on their shelf or tucked away in a trunk, with each day dutifully recorded.
I write, instead, at times of great need or want. Many of my diaries over the years are filled with entry after entry of me trying to make sense of the world: First my social consciousness blossomed, with simplistic entries about race, world peace and environmentalism scrawled in a 10-year-old hand. Later came the 'artistic awakening', when poetry became my primary means of expression and I filled several notebooks with mediocre to rather good verse. All the while, I have phases where I write thrice a day, and others where I leave gaps of a month or two.
So, then, I shouldn't feel too bad about my recent laxity in entries- this is the way it works for me, after all. Web journalling, apparently, is yet another "stage" of my recording of my life. Sometimes, though, I have my doubts about exactly what it is I do here. As hard as I try to avoid it, I can't help but be aware of my audience: my mom, far away friends wanting to know what I'm up to, even aquaintences from school who happen upon my name in the directory and find their way here. No matter what I do, that awareness will always affect my writing. Do I write better when I know people are reading? I don't know about that. I've gotten some compliments on this site, but I know myself well enough to know that most of this is not my best writing.
What am I doing, then, if I can't write my deepest darkest secrets and if what I am writing isn't my best work? I'm not so sure. I do like having a forum which forces me to pull together some of my thoughts- some of my better entries, I think, are the little essay-lets that culminate from a lot of thought about a topic or issue. I also like the connection it creates with others- just the other day, as I was working out in the upper gym, a guy who lived on my floor first year and with whom I've had a few classes walked in. I waved hello, and he smiled back, saying "I found your web journal the other day, I read the whole thing. It's a good story; you're a good writer." Those kinds of encounters always make me chuckle, and sometimes lead me to talk to people with whom I normally don't.
I guess what I'm getting at is this: I like what I'm doing here, and I'd like to make it better. I'll keep plugging away, doing it my way (long lulls and all) for as long as I'm still happy with it. For all you regular readers, the good news is that I think I'm moving into one of those active writing stages again. And, even better, I promise this will be the last navel-gazing entry for a good long time.
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