To the 46 notebooks I’ve filled in the past seven years:
You’re awesome. You’re all different shapes and sizes, with varying paper quality, sheet quantity, and line style. You’re all unique in your contents, and when I flip through your pages, I feel like I can see so much that I didn’t before, when I initially wrote those poems or sketched those trees.
Through the years I’ve changed my journaling style, went from only filling one page a day, to madly dashing through the pages like I was in a race to the finish, to my current style of writing when I need to. (I always feel like I need to.) And you’ve been there for me, with empty space for me to fill as I see fit. The lines are merely suggestions. I can follow them, or break the rules.
Thanks for being the fuel for my defiance. Thanks for smelling like home. Thanks for that satisfying crinkling noise when I flip through filled pages. Thanks for feeling like infinity when I turn them. Thanks for putting up with coffee mugs, with ink that bleeds, with being in backpacks that weren’t waterproof (especially since I always forget to bring my umbrella). Thanks for not judging me when I change my handwriting daily. Thanks for always being within arm’s reach.
Also, thanks for never being possessed by evil wizards.
Here’s to 46 notebooks and seven years. I’m looking forward to the years and notebooks to come.
This post was written in response to the Daily Post’s Discover Challenge: Designed for You. Check out more responses below!