the day the diary died


I stopped actually writing in a journal about 12 years ago, more or less. Rummaging through them now is kind of weird. They even smell ancient, even though nothing feels like very long ago.

Here are some of the final excerpts, leading up to the day my diary died. I talk a lot of nonsense (I call it fin de siecle rambling when I am feeling generous, but mostly I just cringe).

If I started a pen-and-paper journal again, I wouldn’t know how, I don’t think. Maybe I will. Maybe I should. A friend from work showed me this clip of the Blackout Poet today, which I thought was pretty cool, thinking back to the Dadaist days and just being able to find everyday magic in stuff (I don’t mean to sound jaded or past it when I write that, it’s just that I have a headache for the third day in a row).


2 Responses to “the day the diary died”

  1. Hello just stumbled your blog and been reading some of your posts and just wondering why you chose a WordPress site dont you find it impossible to do anything with? Been thinking about starting one.

    • 2 katy77

      Hi Marcus. I find WordPress okay and pretty good to use, for what I’m after. I’m not sure how they all compare though, to be honest. What’s better?

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