Is anybody out there? {echo-echo-echo}

Part I: Motivations
I remember the days when *everybody* was on blogspot. I blogged a lot back then and then, like so many others, when facebook came out I switched over and my blogging stopped. The weird thing was that my passion to journal (as in, writing thoughts in my paper pages) also slowed to a trickle. This causes me to entertain a terrifying thought-- why was I journaling and blogging? For peer approval? Did I entertain fantasies that someone would fall in love with my words? Did I chase after being seen as someone who is deep or artistic? Or did Facebook just occupy so much of my time that I had little desire to journal afterward? I'd like to believe the latter. This post is my new start and to prove to myself that even if nobody is watching, I'm still able to see this through. I know who I am and I am learning to be confident and secure in that. Hi, I'm Leslie Puiras.

Part II: My Journal Doesn't Fit Right.
My journal doesn't fit right. I have been through 5 journals. If you look at their pages, they all look well warn. Each page contains a mixture of doodles, photos, random objects taped in, and all surrounded by the words that tell their story. Last Christmas I was in a chapters and I found a new journal to replace my old one. It feels like it has too many pages. It's too small. It's not got the right feel. Are these excuses? I'm not sure, but for some reason I can't think of a single thing to write about when I sit down. I'm not inspired to doodle.. I don't jump at the chance to journal... I can't figure out why. It's frustrating. I'm afraid to buy another journal in case the problem follows me to the next one. I dont have money to waste.

Part III: Concrete Prison
Some people love the city. I don't know how to live here. There have been jackhammers going every morning for the last 3 weeks from 8:00am until dinnertime. Its loud. People honk and shout and show little understanding when others make mistakes. There is so much concrete and I don't feel relaxed or welcomed along the sidewalks of this grey city. I don't often go out unless I have somewhere to get to.

Part IV: Revelation
Maybe Part I & II are a symptom of Part III.