Journal Confession

I have a confession.
I cannot resist pretty journals.
Especially if they are affordable.

I might need to take more time each day to write so I can fill all these pages with words so as to begin the next journal. There I was at Target, minding my own business, and I just casually walked down the journal and pen aisle, when all the sudden two journals jumped into my cart. I was helpless. There was nothing I could do, except maybe buy more pens to be sure I had enough ink to fill these pages.

While I do love a classic black (or other tone) Moleskine journal (my staple journal), sometimes I see others with patterns and I simply must have them, just to shake up the collection.

It is a condition called 'journalitous'. 

Sadly, it is really difficult to cure, and there is little hope of a recovery. However, new developments in this modern age has been trying to detour the use of journals and replace it with electronic devices. The marketing for this of course emphasizes the ease of use, the lack of paper and pens necessary, and the almost unlimited capacity. It might have won over some people, but I will not be moved. That's another effect of journalitous; the absolute commitment to the handwritten pages.

My loyalty is with paper. The old-fashioned journal with lined pages for my thoughts to fill. Those various electronic devices simply do not have the right asthetic. But a book in hand, now, that is the right feeling. The scent of pages and binding. The weight of it. The pages to flip through. A battery operated machine cannot produce that.

Oh, the blank pages are full of so much potential!