Why You Should Keep a Diary

I’m not the type of person who talks much. Meet me in real life and you can tell that I have a terrible communication skill. The truth is, I don’t even know how to keep a conversation going. Well, my online self is just as awkward. I’ve lost count on how many times I killed a conversation; in a comment section, in a chat, in a forum. I’m a total loser when it comes to talking.

It’s not that I have nothing to say. I have so many things going on in my head, so many things to share with people, but no idea how to articulate them properly. On top of that, I am lacking the gut to do so. I want to be heard but at the same time I’m too afraid to speak up. The idea of throwing a statement, having someone reply to it and giving back another statement in response is a little bit terrifying.

That’s why I keep a diary. I am that kind of girl with a cute and colorful diary you’ve seen in the movies, except that my diary is kind of plain and it's not even close to 'cute'.

Keeping a diary keeps me sane. Imagine me as your phone’s internal storage. I have a certain capacity; a limit on how many data you can save –let’s say 16GB minus 4GB used by the system. You save all the pictures, sound, documents, even apps on your internal storage and suddenly your phone starts lagging and overheating and even restarting on its own. Your memory is almost full. Your device needs an external storage.

Imagine a diary as a memory card, as the external storage you need. Insert the card, move your data and back them up, and you are saving your internal storage from the torture of having too many data to bear, too many things to process. A diary works in a similar fashion. Your brain records a lot of things, mostly irrelevant. There are times when too many things are running in your head and you just can’t think. You need an external storage.

Keeping a diary is a way of burden-sharing. You need a place to channel your opinions, experiences and feelings, and while speaking promises you an instant release, writing could be a better option. When you speak, you just let the words out and you’re done. Unless you record it, you have no trace of it. Writing is a complex process and even though it requires more effort, it is a better stress-reliever in my opinion.

When you’re writing, your brain processes several things at once. You need to form a sentence, you need to choose the words, and you need to create a good structure so that you can really deliver your point. Basically, you do the same thing while speaking except that the process is quicker and more spontaneous. But writing doesn’t just stop there. Your brain needs to control the motor system of your hand so that you can create a handwriting or type on your keyboard.

In a verbal communication, you only need to make a sound that people could comprehend –in other words, pronouncing your words in a specific language –but in a written communication, you need to express them using a certain set of symbols known as letters and forming those letters into an understandable word through the process of combining and arranging. Don't forget the grammar.

Also, you can never write without reading. Triple the process, baby.

Although it sounds complicated, once you’ve done writing, I believe that you’d feel a greater sense of satisfaction since the amount of burden your brain released is greater as well, or so I assume. It is a good exercise for your brain while at the same time, it is also a way for your mind to relax.

Keeping a diary also means saving your precious thoughts. Sometimes, you think of something brilliant and you’re so keen of it, but then you start thinking of other things so much you completely forget your idea. Writing it down is a good way to save you the trouble.

As long as you’re breathing, your brain will never shut up. You need to let them out, and if you lack the ability to speak in any way or have no one to talk to, write it down. That also explains why I’m very fond of the idea of blogging.

And today, while casually strolling around the internet, I found an article with a very intriguing title: A Short Guide to Manly Journaling. Basically, the author gives you –by you, I mean men and those who identify themselves as one –some tips on how to keep a journal.

The title itself makes me think. To be honest, the content of the article is applicable to all gender and I don’t get why there is a need to label the activity as ‘manly journaling’. Is ‘girly journaling’ a thing? Is keeping a journal a girl thing? Then what’s so unmanly about keeping a journal? The article was even listed under 'Manly Skills' category. I’m not trying to insult the article nor the author nor the publisher here. It is a really nice, motivating article; a good reference for anyone who wants to start journaling.

I’m talking about stereotype. The image of a girl with a ponytail writing on her pink, flowery notebook with a pink pen on her pink bed in a pink room that people associate the activity of keeping a diary with. Note that they seem to avoid using the word ‘diary’ when it comes to men as if it sounds a little too feminine. Instead, they keep referring to this activity as keeping a 'journal’. It’s almost like the word ‘journal’ is for men, while the word ‘diary’ is for women. As if the word ‘man’ and ‘diary’ do not (and shall not) belong in the same sentence. Gendering?

What I’m trying to say is that keeping a diary, or a journal or whatever the term you refer to it with, does no harm to every human regardless of gender and might be a good way to balance your mind, even to improve your mental health. I’ve spent years keeping a diary and it helps me coping with hard times, channeling both frustration and excitement, and even practicing my writing. You should try it.

The Subjective Beauty of Time

There is a reason why I enjoy watching Doctor Who series. Remember that legendary episode in which the Doctor told you not to blink? I’ve become wary of statues ever since, but that’s not the point. The Doctor described time as a timey-wimey wibbly-wobbly stuff. While it wasn’t the best explanation, I couldn’t agree more.

Most people see time as a boring, linear series of events. One beginning leads to one end –a newborn baby, a dead veteran. Probably because time has a strict rule of seconds, minutes, hours, days and so on. One minute is sixty seconds. One hour is sixty minutes and so on.

However, there is nothing rigid when it comes to humans. Anomaly happened, rules bent, law broken. We think that the universe works in a strict, systematic fashion of beginning to end, and while it is true, we cannot oversee the fact that it also works in a strong, intangible fashion of cause and effect.

Imagine sitting in front of your computer. You want to download something. Let’s say, the latest episode of The X-Files from a torrent source. That’s so me, by the way. You click on the download button and your torrent client shows up on your screen. Ok. Ok. Done. You are now downloading a 300MB something mp4 file. Estimated download time: five minutes. Depending on how fast your connection normally is, you either react with a “Hang on, how is that possible?” or a “What the hell, it’s so slow!”

First world problem.

What I’m trying to say is time is both fast and slow, in other word, relative. As a human, we live in a world where our perception of time has been altered. I was born in 1994, not at the time where sun shone a little bit too bright and one of my aunt had just given birth to a healthy little baby boy and the road was somehow empty outside the hospital.

However, ask my dad about it and he’d say that it was one of the slowest, painful half an hour he’d ever been in his life. Ask my mom about it and she’d say it just happened so fast, I barely remember because I was anesthetised –you were born through C-section –and suddenly you were there; I heard your first cry.

Now imagine a defendant on his final trial. The judge is about to read his verdict and his near future, at least, is written on that bunch of papers on his hand. Imagine being the defendant, sitting in the middle of the court, listening to the verdict word by word, sentence by sentence. Imagine the victim sitting across the defendant. Same situation, same location, same time frame.

Seven years in prison, the judge finally says.

The defendant breaths out. Seven years is tough. At least, he won’t have to worry about foods and shelter for the next seven years.

The victim breaths out. Seven years is not enough compared to what he’s been through. He should be there longer. Seven years will pass in a blink and he’ll soon be out there.

Seven years means 84 months. 365 weeks. 2,555 days. 61,320 hours. 220,752,000 seconds.

If time was merely linear, a straight line that went from one point to another, the phrase “time flies” would be a total lie, as well as the urge to skip thing you can’t avoid and be done with it.

The beauty of time lies on the infinite way to describe it, the subjectivity that every individual brings to its meaning. We can be here, at the same time and space, but my time might have a different pace with yours. My clock might say 12.06 PM but does it mean the same to everyone? Do you think 12.06 PM only means that it’s six minutes past midday? Is it correct to refer to it as midday? Because the sun might not even be right above your head during this exact set of numbers.

While we might be immersed on the idea of time-traveling and all, don't you think that in a more humble fashion, the different meaning people give to their time is the beauty of time itself?

I have been sitting and typing this long-ass opinion for the past hour. You can finish reading this in less than five minutes. Beautiful, isn’t it?