unfinished

i am attracted to them.
the beautiful bindings. the decorative covers.
thick crisp paper with soft faded lines.
i buy them often when visiting local boutiques or
as a souvenir from where ever i travel.
i have the best intentions to write in my new journal everyday.
i always promise myself i will unlock my inner passion.
i will finally harness the wandering thoughts that prevent me from sleeping.

the first entry for each is filled with poignant poetic prose
as i introduce myself, again, to the inner workings of my mind.

and then silence...

the pages are blank.
not even a doodle.

i am over taken by fear and laziness and television...
the beautiful hand-crafted booklet is abandoned.

and now i have started a blog.
visit me again.
maybe i will fill this one.

**a special thanks to my friend Jen Gray for encouraging me to dust off my journals...**