Journals and blank notebooks intrigue and fascinate me in ways that I cannot comprehend. From the various designs of its front covers, the fresh smell of tree bark, to the clean sheets of pale parchment, I sometimes feel that this fetish of mine is tipping over the borders of obsession, and it took me an immense amount of self-control over a long span of time to not keep bringing a new one back home every time I enter a bookstore!
Within my collection (explains how many I actually have -___-"), I actually have use for most of them, while the empty ones I keep stashed away to await days of random epiphany, and I finally give them a purpose. :)
Whatever journals I have, I value them dearly, as each one of them carries some sort of sentimental significance - It could be contents that were churned directly from my jumbled thoughts, the person(s) who gave it to me as gifts, knowing the littlest details of what I valued and liked, quotes that I wouldn't want to forget, or how I use them as monthly planners to keep track of my life.
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| Planner 2012 |
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| My book of dreams ♥ |
I guess I like the idea of having bits and pieces of myself immortalized in whatever means possible; in this case, it would be my thoughts put into words that hopefully, I would have the luxury of rereading again in the years to come.
Besides that reason, you can say that it's like any other crazy obsession some others might have.
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