i finished a journal the other day.
there is something so satisfying about finishing a journal.
knowing that you filled up alllll of those pages with your thoughts.
i love looking back and seeing how ive grown and how much ive still got to go.
pages and pages filled with black ink.
i love a good worn in journal.
the more stains the better, you can tell its been somewhere.
at the same time though, it is sad to finish a journal.
i get attached and something that i see every single day for quite some time is so no longer in my life.
i miss it. i was comfortable with that journal, it was well broken in.
and now it is filled and i must start anew.
new journal, filled with a multitude of empty pages just waiting to be filled with my thoughts.
equally as satisfying in my book.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment