Over the past year, I have come to rely on this journal to be my haven for announcing my deepest and most genuine feelings (heaven forbid that someone I know personally should cross paths with this journal) on matters concerning myself and those around me. From time to time, I will stray from this manner of writing and attempt to separate myself from the intent of this journal by writing reviews or other non-personal entries. But, eventually, I find myself right back where I started--expressing feelings and thoughts that I will undoubtedly come to regret. Yet, despite my personal reservations about opening myself to the world, I find myself returning to it and embracing it. Perhaps, I am a bit of an exhibitionist in the sense that I do crave attention and acknowledgement. Hell, this mantra is plastered within the over-sized heading situated at the top of the page: I'm attempting to avoid oblivion, I'm trying to not be forgotten despite my unremarkable existence.
I sincerely wish a number of things, but here are two that are most relevant to this journal and its purpose: (1) I wish I lived a life that truly warrants a chronicle of it and (2) I wish that my writing were more elegant and polished and that my words could convey what I mean to say. Of course, my existence is what I make of it. And, my writing will only improve by writing and reading. I know that despite my rather mundane and trivial existence, entries (I am still deciding upon the correct terminology for this online journal) about those menial matters are far more interesting than entries like this one that rambles on. Anyways, I simply had the desire to attempt to write something of more depth than my typical entry.
