Me and My Diary

My habit of recording thoughts began years ago, not as a structured daily commitment, but as an intermittent practice—capturing ideas as they occurred. Returning to these small notebooks months or even years later yielded an astonishing discovery: they provided a clear, documented map of my mind's evolution. They revealed precisely how my thinking operated in the past and how dramatically my perspectives had shifted, often leading to stark realizations like, "How could I have been that stupid?" or, conversely, "At least I could think way back then."

To clarify terminology: a diary is typically a consistent, regular record of events, feelings, and indications. My intermittent record is more akin to a journal, defined as a less frequent account focused on events, thoughts, or ideas. Though many professionals, particularly politicians, maintain journals for operational or even legal purposes, my own goal was always strictly private.

The foremost realization from this practice is that I was unknowingly conversing with my future self. This written past becomes essential because memory is notoriously unreliable, being a constantly edited and changing archive. The journal preserves the authentic, unvarnished state of mind from a specific moment. Without this written record, one can only look into the past through the murky lens of an ever-changing memory. You cannot imagine how informative such a journal becomes. When reading it I sometimes wonder, “How ever could I have been that stupid?”

Even more so in talking to my future is my diary, where I express on a regular basis my feelings, events, and family matters. This is even more personal (i.e. private) than my journal, and I share it only with myself. A leather-bound, vellum-paged volume is not needed; for years, I wrote comments in pocket, spiral-bound notebooks. Scribbles, diagrams, and pictures are all included within these.

The Modern Paradox of Public Articulation

This desire to say something has exploded into the digital age with blogs and online journals, estimated to number between 500 million and one billion worldwide. This massive volume demonstrates a powerful, universal urge to articulate one's thoughts. Yet, the sheer number of abandoned or near-empty sites, like the countless blogs based on a single word and little else, presents a profound paradox. Millions want to start a conversation, perhaps giving a good introduction, but ultimately fail to follow through. The collective reason for this abandonment includes a lack of time, a lack of substance, or simply not knowing how to articulate the intended message. It has become and remains a fascinating, unwritten chapter of digital sociology.

 

2025 G Donald Allen