Sunday January 5, 2020
My first diary was dark purple with shiny gold and silver stars. It had a lock and a key. I wrote about the boys I liked, or some injustice that my parents or sister had committed against me. Not much as changed there in regards to my journaling. Kidding! Kidding! Now I write in scribblers from the dollar store. As long as it’s a lined page I’m good. Don’t need anything fancy. Who spends thirty damn dollars on a notebook that’s probably going to end up with coffee rings and boogers all over it? Not this guy. Pens, whole other story. Spend money on a pen and you’re going to feel that great flow for years to come. Ballpoint. Black ink. No other way to do it. No other way. Sometimes, people are like, “Jeremy! You’re not funny! Don’t do stand up!” But it’s not just about being funny. It’s about crafting something, carving away at what you don’t need.