The best thing that a tumbleweed can be is just a tumbleweed. It knows no direction or reference of time. Once it matures and dries, it detaches itself away from its root or its stem and tumbles off in the wind. As it rolls from one area to another, parts of the tumbleweed break off, allowing its parts the ability to grow into something new.
I’m one fucking expensive tumbleweed.
In this new age, I rarely run across anyone who still corresponds with their journal. In fact, I don’t run into anyone who does. Actually, I will get the strangest look at the mention of “writing in my journal.” The only other person I know who still does this, aside from myself, is my best friend. To be honest, we carry our journals around in our purses. They are just as vital to us as our keys, Chapstick, and wallet.It’s so easy to blog. Hell, anyone can do it. The thing with blogging, though, is that it’s meant to be seen. Whereas, journals are meant for no one else to see. Along with that, it’s a rarity to see a person blog or post anything that consists of originality.
Don’t get me wrong. I love technology. I love new gadgets, new softwares, new ways to communicate with the world, etc, but these new and improved things stifle our ability to communicate with the monster that lives inside of us. (Yes, we all have one.) When we fail to have a relationship with that inner monster, there is a disconnect that is formed that truly affects how one has external relationships with others. These journals help us reflect and hopefully help us mature and become a little wiser. We grow from this courage from pain, or fortitude, as I like to call it.So, I hope people write a little more. Instead of just having those conversations with the devil or angel on their shoulders, I hope write down their thoughts. Too much to write? Believe me, I know the feeling all to well of my hand not writing fast enough or my fingers not typing fast enough. The words that are chosen to be written, however, are the words that form the thoughts of which are important enough to show us how much we have grown.