t
2 min readOct 13, 2020

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the concept of a diary

i’ve always admired the idea of keeping a diary. having a book of your innermost thoughts, a book worn and tired from its loving use, a book always close at hand and near in mind, a book of worldwide citizenship. diaries are like a little vignette into an individual, just a glimpse of the complexity that is humanity. they are universally and historically, a constant. someone will always be writing a diary of some sort. an with each diary entry comes a new story, a unique viewpoint of who we are, both as a whole and an individual. their storytelling is so personal, a mix of fact, emotion and phrases we’ve picked up along our way. they replicate the microcosms within our own head and the macrocosm of operating within a society. diary entries speculate, observe, interpret, discuss, analyse. yet simultaneously, their sublime personal characteristics ensure that no diary entry can be fully understood by anyone other than the individual who’s entry it is. often, that is not even the case. diaries are the perspective of the human mind trying to figure itself out. they’re inverted.

but they aren’t practical. i’ve never been good at keeping a diary. being fuelled on sheer motivation and admiration for the aesthetics of diaries is never enough to sustain the long-term effort. then again, maybe it’s lack of habit. honestly, it’s probably down to the deficient supply of interesting things to write about, the lack of unique, worthwhile thoughts, for all my seemingly profound ideas come in a fleeting moment, gone to quickly to ever catch in ink. so diaries aren’t for me. yet i’d like a place to store my thoughts, or at least the ghosts of these fleeting moments. and maybe this will work, maybe this will be my only entry. but i want to do something for myself, and purely me, try to decipher my late-night musings, work out who i really am, what my consciousness is. these entires will be brief, with minimal editing, often written in one sitting. but they’ll be real feelings, honest, or at least as honest as they can be. nothing overthought. i’ll see how it goes.

ok, that’s all.

tuesday 13th october 2020, 10:28pm

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t
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an over analysed, naieve, self-absorbed, glorified and ultimately inconsequential diary, because nothing matters and we all die in the end ❤