Writing, at least for me, is my saving grace. Releasing raw or mature words from thoughts and keeping a journal as a friend is good self-therapy! Appreciate the ability of your journals to allow you to develop your thoughts and review how you have felt on a given day. Know that as you journal, you are doing so to unleash creativity and you can possibly expect a pleasant surprise from what your own words can heal or reexamine. Write or write a life of peace or adventure. Release your written words and expect to reap the unexpected; The peace or pain can be reprinted or published until another story is written, again, in your travel journal.

I wrote a lot in my journal when I was a kid. Though when I reflect, it was mainly writing and purging hurtful events on paper in constant fear that playful, curious, unwanted, mischievous eyes would gain access and tease me while they read what was none of their business to read in the first place. .

Yes, it was an exhausting experience to have a burning desire and a physical desire and the need to write words, songs or stories and fables on paper. Things were especially difficult when privacy and space were at a premium.

Living in a small house, in confined spaces, in an old Texas town, with many children around, constantly having to write hidden; keeping my diary up to date was certainly not a safe bet.

Keeping it out of the vengeful and enemy hands of disdainful brothers and sisters was more of a chore than the peaceful event it could be, if done unopposed.

While his interests were more adventurous, I’ll give you that though, mine were more private and autonomous and I couldn’t understand why reading my private entries would be so compelling. My brothers were of a similar age and had the advantage of establishing contacts with each other.

The first three of my siblings all went to the same two schools throughout the graduation process. One was called Blanco and the other was like the Spanish explorer: Coronado. The youngest also attended school alone with no other siblings around him, just like me!

I missed the district deadline and was alone to figure it out, on my own, so I chose the best path for me.

Doing well in school, making friends with like-minded students, and even helping my teachers was my social unit and family plan. It was then that the worm of writing, illness, obsession or compulsion began …

I wanted to fit in somewhere and when my English and language arts teachers showed me their favor, I knew what I wanted to do …

It was in my writing assignments at Roberts School that I felt more comfortable, stable, and confident in being myself and finding other children feeling and doing the same.

I quickly learned that I liked the challenge of writing with clear thinking, creating passages and researching and being able to spell it out and take the pain and pain out of me and turn it into something serious, joyous, or even fun.

My teacher: Mrs. Quill, you told me to start a journal, so I did! From then on, I quickly learned that journaling is just the beginning of the path commonly called freelance writing.

Writing, which usually begins with a journal, is a clear way to examine or challenge yourself, your progress, and work out things on paper that answer the words, even if only to yourself, that exude the pulse of your fears. , perceptions. or challenges, challenging ORRR more for manifesting your miracles and pursuing your dreams.

Life is a travel journal and you cannot stop hoping, knowing and believing in the power of writing your way to achieve miracles and fulfill dreams.

So if you are a young writer and your journal is read, take a pause or a short breath and then get back into your writing habit again.

One day my older brother feverishly searched and found my journal …

Ed was the type of guy who always had something nosy to say about what he was doing, or who always compared me to other members of my family.

Of course, when you read my journal, your assumptions were correct. I was a lone wolf in my skill of choice: writing and enjoying my craft, I knew it was my truth, and luckily I lived in a great environment for wolves. LOL.

We lived across the street from a large and obscenely vast desert, where you could hear the howling of animals.

Where a complete shopping center and a large package store now reside.

Don’t get me wrong, I love to shop at Sam’s, although before I was there, there was only a desolate and desperate desert that was the haunting place of nature walkers, kissing teenagers, wild animals and reptiles as well. like an unfamiliar landscape … And then there was me, doing my homework in peace and stealing some tasty moments to write poetry!

Expect to be pleasantly surprised by what your mind will prompt you to write, it is what was disclosed to me when I was immersed in meaningful prayer.

I also learned that it was much wiser to be less resistant to what my mind would say compared to what it was expected to write.

Enjoy your journal journey and expect to be pleasantly surprised by how long it will allow you to write.

Everyone’s autobiography is already written, get out of their way and write from your heart space and watch your emotions shift and shift for more enlightenment and self-nurturing.

AAAAAH, those were the good old days. Growing up in West, El Paso wasn’t easy if you were unique, or a little eccentric, aka different.

I can never be accused of being a sheep or a follower of traditions and customs that I was not raised to believe.

I would have liked to have engaged a little more with others, or even invited myself to participate. They could at least have invited me, just saying …

*** I enjoy learning from you and others who continually offer me knowledge!