Saturday 21st April 1934
A rainy morning; I went to work feeling fairly suicidal and depressed.
Swept the floor slowly – it took me an hour – and tried to discover why I was so :
Morbid, “Different” and self-absorbed. I came to the conclusion (right or wrong) that this journal has a good deal to do with it. Yes, this journal! It makes me ponder and analyse – as I’m doing now!
Then must I stop keeping a diary? It would be hard at first. But perhaps necessary, although I’ve kept it for nearly four years. My chief motive, I think, in writing of things, is that I should hate any golden or poignant memory to slip – be forgotten.
Well, I shall decide this evening. If it’s for the best. (Written Saturday afternoon)
Swept the floor slowly – it took me an hour – and tried to discover why I was so :
Morbid, “Different” and self-absorbed. I came to the conclusion (right or wrong) that this journal has a good deal to do with it. Yes, this journal! It makes me ponder and analyse – as I’m doing now!
Then must I stop keeping a diary? It would be hard at first. But perhaps necessary, although I’ve kept it for nearly four years. My chief motive, I think, in writing of things, is that I should hate any golden or poignant memory to slip – be forgotten.
Well, I shall decide this evening. If it’s for the best. (Written Saturday afternoon)
posted by Paul Wilson at 7:15 pm
1 Comments:
Ive always thought it was good to keep a record of thoughts good or bad, life and what happens in it.
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