Friday, December 09, 2005

-BLOG vs. JOURNAL-

So I am at lunch today with Darci and she revealed to me that she has an online journal. She just started it. She wants it to be her own personal thing, that no one else reads, and I kind of wondered why for a second. But I do understand, from her point of view, why she would want that for her.

But why not just write it down, in a real journal, with a pen, as opposed to typing it up on a public webspace?

Then I thought some more...

I wondered what it would be like if I turned my blog into my “journal” for a week and just said what’s in my heart on my mind. What if I did that instead of entertainingly spinning everything? I wonder if people would still read it. If they would laugh or cry. If wonder if Darci would kill me after day 1. The answer is yes, she would.

I wonder...why the fuck should I care what anyone thinks. Fuck it. This is mine. Don’t click the link if you don’t want to see what I have to say. Right? Right.
--
DAY 1 JOURNAL

I’m looking at my fucking hand right now wondering why in the fuck this poison ivy rash that I’ve been scratching the fuck out of is scarring. It’s gonna make my whole hand look ugly if it doesn’t go away.

I’m also still wondering why Darci started an online journal in the first place, that she doesn’t want me to read, but she wanted me to know about. Is it so she can write about me when I piss her off? Or am I selfish for thinking its “all about me”? Is it because she has things she wants to write about that she can’t talk to me about? Well that’s just even fuckin’ better?

And tonight I have a Christmas party to go to for work, and damn near all the fucking people I like to hang out with from work have quit working here, so I’m pretty much on my own. This sure will be fun. “Bartender, can I get one more glass of red wine please?” Yeah, that’s me, standing in the corner with the glass of red wine.

THE END of DAY 1 JOURNAL
--

So about my first online journal experience...it sucked. I hate it. You wanna know how many times I hit backspace and erased a perfectly fine “journal thought?” A lot. So what you just read, wasn’t really my fucking journal. It was an edited, thought over, back-spaced, spell checked, “oops, I can’t say that” backspace, backspace, backspace, bunch of shit.

I have a “real” journal at home. It’s leather-bound with rubber bands wrapped around it to keep it shut. It’s got about 22 entries in it from the past 2 years. Most pages have lines of crossed out thoughts (but I can still read what’s written underneath). A lot of it doesn’t make sense. A bunch of shit is miss-spelled, but who cares. And some of the pages have words smeared from tears. Maybe from when I wrote it. Maybe from every time I re-read it.

Have you ever seen “The Notebook”?

Think about if that movie was made in 2055. Would Duke read the journal to Allie at www.journal-time.com by the lake from their laptop, instead of reading from the handwritten book of their life?

When Noah just missed the love of his life leaving town, would he chase after her on foot? Would he still have written 365 letters, one every day for a year, to tell her how much he loved her?

No. He would have reached for his flip phone and speed dialed Allie and told her to come back to him? End of scene.

What the fuck happened to letters…in the mail? What happened to surprising someone by showing up on their doorstep…instead of calling them first? What the fuck happened to the journal?

I apologize. You’re probably annoyed that this is entirely too long for just being a blog entry. But fuck it; if this were a book you were holding in your hands, you’d just turn the page. Who knows the difference any more?

1 Comments:

Blogger ALISHA said...

Thank you Mel Jay.

1:40 PM  

Post a Comment

<< Home