Journaling June: Existential Meditations

A dead worm on the sidewalk.

“Just because you’re struggling doesn’t mean you’re failing.”

I’m a sucker for quotes like that. I came across it on the subreddit inspirational quotes. I’ve subscribed to that subreddit because I’m trying to find the positive in the world. Sadly, most of the time it seems that the good things don’t surface quite like the bad ones do.

But, I can’t point my finger without three fingers pointing back. I may have quit watching the news, got off of social media (except Reddit), and avoid the sensationalistic hype machine as much as possible, but I still find plenty of click bait titles to follow. I go down those rabbit holes incensed, pitchfork and torch in either hand.

(in other words, we’re a sucker for that stuff too.)

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Journaling June: Where Have All the Anole Gone?

Black slug sliding along the sidewalk.

Why are slugs black now? I remember slugs being brownish and green and shiny with mucus. On my walks all I see now are these charcoal sticks shoving their way across the sidewalk.

Actually, I’m less interested in why as I am with when. When did slugs turn into Sith? The when question is more important because I’ve noticed other things that are similarly different “all of a sudden.” This is distressing because I tend to be good at noticing details. By missing changes like this it makes me wonder if I’ve stroked out a bit. I mean, I did have a massive heart attack at 32.

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Journaling June: The Right Write Stuff

Hand writing my journal entry.

I’ve almost bled my current pen dry.

Oh. Right. You’re reading this on on screen. Sorry. A little background will help. I handwrite all my journals. There is something satisfying about scratching out my thoughts on paper, something ritualistic about it. I’m sure I’m romanticizing it by giving it an almost religious quality, but I’m a writer. We are prone to the flights of fancy. Give me a break.

I’m always amazed that I handwrite enough to empty so many pens. I shouldn’t be. I mean, I write every day. I fill a moleskine notebook each month. I guess it’s surprising because for the longest time, starting in college, I used my computer to write, and so a pen would last years. Hell, a pen would have lasted my whole college career if I hadn’t lost them.

(or found one we liked better. and then another. and then another . . .)

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