Ever since I was smaller than I am now, I've had trouble with notebooks. I can't get enough of them, for one. For two? I never write anything in them. Particularly the ones I like
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Mucho insightful (there, see? You put something insightful in a journal. Now you'll be all the more upset when you fuck it up later.)
My answer, for a while, was to gather a bunch of notebooks and designate them, by way of sticky-notes or whatever, for certain uses. Haikus, attempts at real poetry, bitching & whining, tarot readings, dreams, etc. A journal for each.
It actually worked pretty well, until I lost about half of them in a move. Then I had hallucinations that my brain had been scattered to the four winds and I'd never be whole again, for a while.
But I still use the ones I have left, like that. Scribbles...boredom...personal shit...poetry...story fragments...I Ching speculations...martial arts notes...SHIT, I guess I still have a ton of journals!
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My answer, for a while, was to gather a bunch of notebooks and designate them, by way of sticky-notes or whatever, for certain uses. Haikus, attempts at real poetry, bitching & whining, tarot readings, dreams, etc. A journal for each.
It actually worked pretty well, until I lost about half of them in a move. Then I had hallucinations that my brain had been scattered to the four winds and I'd never be whole again, for a while.
But I still use the ones I have left, like that. Scribbles...boredom...personal shit...poetry...story fragments...I Ching speculations...martial arts notes...SHIT, I guess I still have a ton of journals!
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