Little Pink Book

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I have begubn to write. I am like my mother in that I hesitate to write in a fancy journal. I worry that what I write won't be cool or interesting or important. i keep a journal in spit and furts.and it's mostly emotional crap that I tear out and burn later so no one can read it.

So now I am recording mundane facts about my daily life. How long did I sleep. what medication and food have I ingested. What have I read and what were my impressions.What work have I accomplished.

I am not writing for therapy, for memory or someone's voyuerisitc pleasure. It is a daily reflection, like meditating, that makes me slow down, breath, live. It helps my brain.
It seems like information that might someday be useful when I go to a doctor's office, or want to remember what I thought about that book - but largely it is here and now, a personal daily reckoning.

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