Obviously, I haven't been doing so well with my summer goal of posting here once a week. I've found that while I like the idea of it, I'm not actually a very good blogger. I wish I had a hobby or something to focus on so that I could be more consistent, but at this point, it's mostly just my random musings that I feel the need to express. So here's a bit of an expression:
Last night, I felt the need to read through the last journal I completed. If you didn't previously know, I've been keeping journals pretty consistently since the end of 7th grade. Most of the completed ones are currently sitting in a backpack in my closet at home, and I've told my Mum that if I somehow die before her, it is her task to burn that backpack and all of its contents. Journals are something that I believe to be incredibly private--while I sometimes use them just to write about my day or about who I think I'm in love with, I also use them to chart my growth as a human being. They've helped me discover my identity, what I truly care about, how I relate to God, how I relate to others. I feel like even if I was dead, I would still somehow be embarrassed if my journals were found and read...or worse, published. That's me in the raw, all guards down, no concern for my audience because there's not supposed to be one. Not to mention the fact that I wasn't all that deep at 16. If I remember correctly, there were a lot of entries about Corbin Bleu back then.
That was a large tangent just to say that I'm pretty proud of this last journal. It spanned the entirety of my junior year at NAU, from the first day of Fall semester to the first couple weeks of summer vacation. It was the most difficult year of school I've ever experienced, but it also pushed me to be a better student, writer, and creator. There were so many instances where I felt reassured that I was studying the right things and pursuing the right field. And it was also a time where I feel like I landed such a great group of friends that I was able to spend ample amounts of time with. There are so many memories in that journal, from the inceptions of various story and poem ideas, to eating IHOP after the Ke$ha concert, to processing after my trip to Haiti, to a Step Up marathon that turned out to not be a Step Up marathon at all. It felt great to relive all of that, and to feel like I really made the most of this past year. So if you were a part of it in any way, thank you for that.
All of this to say...I have some pretty large expectations for the coming semester. And I'll be there through it all, pen in hand.