Moleskine

I am currently without a journal. This is the first time in almost 15 years. The old one took its place last year on the shelf with the rest of my memoirs as Vol. 11 and I have yet to start Vol. 12. It has been so long since I've purchased a new one that I'm at a loss for what kind to buy and where to buy one. I don't need one with a lock or one that is covered in butterflies. That narrows down my choices quite a bit. Though I feel a little like a wannabe indy poet with this choice, I think I may go with a Moleskine. One reason is because they are the only "journals" in B&N or Borders that proclaim to be "acid-free." Another is because they are plain and sans colors and patterns and motivational phrases. The other reason is because they are thin. I feel a great sense of accomplishment when I finish a journal so the smaller it is, the quicker I'll complete it. Plus, I can also buy them in a pack of three really thin ones, that way I can use one for my personal journal and the other ones can be used to record all those random creative plans... (it's a good thing they are thin books).

On the cover of the Moleskine notebook is the description "The legendary notebooks of Hemingway, Picasso, Chatwin." That tagline alone is saying "Once you own me, a piece of Hemingway's genius will be absorbed into you. Good luck my child." It's like they know. They know that you are not just a student or a teacher or a trash man or an accountant. They know that deep down you are meant to be a champion of creativity. You are meant to spend your evenings on the porch of your cottage on the coast of Maine, with a glass of wine, leisurely penning the next great American novel. Not because you want to... but because you can. The website also caters to this unexplored chasm of your potential. It describes the notebooks as "flexible and brilliantly simple tools for use both in everyday and extraordinary circumstances, ultimately becoming an integral part of one's personality." Yes, you too, my friend, are extraordinary and can become one with your Moleskine. It will inevitably become part of you. And you, in turn, a part of it.

My journal functions as an outlet for my brain. Mental exercise, if you will. In its absence, I am experiencing a bit of mental overload. All of my thoughts have become so jumbled up in my head that there isn't room for new ones so they are becoming underdeveloped and mutated. My mind has become a tiny aquarium with thousands of goldfish whose individual presence is preventing each of the fellow goldfish from expanding to their fullest potential. Thus, I must find a journal (or a pensieve) and begin to extract my mental goldfish one by one. Tonight, I will become the first-time owner of a Moleskine (or three). Wish me luck.