There are an innumerable amount of times you grow up. They’re incremental. They’re small spurts. After all, if you were all the places you want to be, you’d have nowhere left to go.  

“Life’s a journey,” someone said,  and I repeat,  because I’m not a good enough writer to come up with something better.

Something I’ve always admired are blogs. Like a journal, but to an extent, public, blogs provide the unique opportunity to watch someone else’s journey play out. Unlike a story, they don’t have a plot. Unlike memoir, they aren’t beaten and molded until they make sense. Each entry is often unrelated, but, like a mosaic, step back far enough, and you’ll eventually see a whole,  even if that whole is only numbers denoting a time period. 

They’re beautiful things. Pure. Often under-appreciated. 

I’ve always wanted to write one. 


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