on journals

I have stopped using my paper journal somewhere mid-november. instead I turned it into a notebook for various notes. the soft pages that still smell of fresh print are now mostly covered in chinese characters and lists and names taken out of the last issue of foreign affairs. I use it mostly for research purposes; for my book, for my films and other things that are on my mind. because it had became pointless to continue writing when everything I had believed on the first pages of that same journal (most entries written in september) had fallen apart in between. most of it was written in october when I was by myself in hong kong for the autumn vacation. everything seemed beautiful because of the happiness, which we shared. I think it’s so unfortunate that I will always hate the halloween now. and your obsession about it and the way you pressured me and made me feel guilty. once everything went downhill and I decided to stop using the journal because I thought it’d be pointless and wasteful to start filling with words of hatred and endless bitterness. I reflected that in different ways, somewhere else.

but it all seems to be gone. this morning I woke up wishing I had a fresh, new journal to start writing into. everything is changing, everything is different. my old friends went back to school. I still feel that relief of november twentieth when I realized I will never have to go back. it was a beautiful day.

February 24, 2011