This was supposed to be the year of the marvelous journal. I went to London this year. I'm dating the most wonderful man I could possibly ask for. Is everything just too good to write about? Can I only write when I feel wronged or hurt? Is 2009 too much of a perfect year to have anything to say? I feel horrible about my journal and I am seeking refuge in my blog, who can't possibly love me as much as my journal. Journal and I have been together consistently since I was 13, I only met you, blog, in London and this is scarcely my third or is it my forth entry. While I contemplate whether or not Journal will take me back I will take solace in trace Trafalgar's Tablet, which like my dear Journal no one reads.
Well I guess at least one person has read your blog, but that was only after quite an effort on your part to persuade me to do so. But one thought comes to mind about journals. I have to confess, I have not written in my journal in almost a year now mainly for two reasons. One I do not want my posterity or others knowing about certain things in my life and two some things in my life are so sacred and unexplainable to me that I feel like I would be doing those memories an injustice by trying to express them in mere words. Not even the most pure poetry can come close to express the blessings and love I have felt from my Heavenly Father through many areas in my life, mainly friends. Hopefully I will repent soon and find something to write about in my journal soon enough, but it will take some thought ad self persuasion on my part before something will emerge.
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