Have you ever had to deal with trying to finish a journal that just. wouldn’t. end?
This was my daily journal from four years ago, lovingly nicknamed the “Sagrada Familia” notebook. Its dimensions I’d guesstimate at around the B5 range. Its pages were Frankenstein’d together from the remains of three partially used spiral notebooks I had left over from school.
Trust me when I say this: it is MUCH thicker than it looks. that’s what she said
I near gave myself a nervous breakdown trying to use up all the pages in this thing. For one, it was so damn large that once it was full of all my usual journaling/scrapbooking embellishments it was heavy enough to murder a hamster. (That did NOT actually happen, thank God.)
This should give you an idea of why this notebook was a nightmare to finish: large pages, thin ruled lines and my walls of text in eensy-weensy Palmer-Method-that-lost-its-social-graces-and-took-a-drunk-nap-in-the-park cursive.
I broke the cardinal rule of journaling on the go by toting around a notebook so large I couldn’t travel anywhere without a sturdy bag. Normally the recommended course of action is to carry a small, pocket-sized notebook for when you’re bored waiting in line or get struck with inspiration while sitting in the bus or whatever.
Then again, there are no journaling rules. And what rules do exist (as with all other things) are meant to be broken.
Miraculously, I managed to complete this notebook in less than a year. I was in an unusually productive mood writing-wise, plus a one-month family trip to Davao made for some very interesting travel journal entries.
You’re probably asking yourself: “If I hated working in this notebook so much, why didn’t I just drop it for another one?” And that’s a good point. Life is too short for you to put up with shitty stationery.
Except I didn’t actually hate this thing. I like that I collaged and stitched up the covers myself. I like that the pages still bear the battle scars of two subjects I enjoyed just fine in high school (and one I was absolute garbage at). I like that I am the sole owner of this oversized paper monstrosity, and that after several months of constant use it had taken on a unique character that made it completely one of a kind.