Junk Journaling
My sister carries that journal with her everywhere, and frankly… I don’t understand the habit. I think it’s funny to watch her as she moves about her life and scribble furiously in the journal when she has downtime. She writes about (what I assume to be) her life like a dementia patient desperately clinging onto the last bit of continuity left in their life. She doesn’t share it with anyone — she nearly killed me the last time I touched it — and doesn’t post about it online, either. It truly is a personal hobby for her.
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I mean seriously, why would anyone ever journal... |
To me, it’s a misallocation of her time and resources that could be spent on more intellectual pursuits, scrolling on TikTok or shopping online are good examples. What could be so enrapturing about a journal (a diary for the more cynical) that anybody would carry it around like an extension of their body? There is no world found inside the binding of that journal, it’s simply an echo chamber where one can have thoughts, read thoughts, and think thoughts. Thinking never leads anyone anywhere good and righteous — name one fascist who didn’t start their regime with ideas and thought. Honestly, thoughts are useless in this day and age of technology. Memory is what computers store on the cloud, and processing is how fast my computer can load movies. Putting pen to paper and processing ideas for yourself? How archaic.

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