of course

i knew i'd forget to write in this thing the minute i got it. it's strange how someone who loves to write just can't seem to get it all out in his own writing. sometimes i don't have the energy. i don't know why. i feel bad because i know that it's possible for me to carry out this gift and desire for words but can't seem to enjoy it enough to simply do it constantly.
i recently read my cousin's blog and she's just like me. digi cam handy at all times and she's always trying to keep memories locked. i need to carry my journal where ever i go. i started my own Book of Hours/devotional/prayer folder where I can go back and read each prayer i felt got me through whatever i needed to go through.
shuffling through my dirty closet, i found all these old notebooks with my poetry in them. there's tons and i didn't realize how much there was until i found them all. of course, they need to be edited with satisfaction of a future reader. honestly, from what i read, i don't understand WHY i wrote whatever i wrote at the moment. sometimes it seems ridiculous...so maybe some of those will remain private until i'm satisfied with the outcome of the editing process i'll be performing.
i've got a lot to say...especially since last week i've been wanting to say something. i just need to find a way to put it into words.