I keep two
succinct, and veeery different [not that I make any conscious effort to make this so] journals.....
One
online, and one in a cute Japanese leather bound
book.
I started writing in my *
real* journal [basically my
soul on paper] when I was around 10.....needless to say, I've been through a
fuckload of books, and kept them all. :D
In my bound book,
prose seems to
spout and
spurt out my fingers...it's quite
melancholy.
I rarely write about the
beauty of life, although my personality in general is
vibrant and
positive and my life is usally filled with
laughter.
I guess this is the
outlet for all of the built up
silt in my life and brain.
I've never had a problem with my
online journal.
I write what I like, and don't even
consider whose reading it. To me, that would make the practice lose all sense of
honesty and
integrity, and render it
useless.
* * *
Link in my
signiature.
![Wink ;) ;)](data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7)