Mirror&rorriM. Girl's Called Him Benji. leather bound conditions.

Among many things that I dislike, is the act of seeing myself in photo's and hearing my own voice in recordings. I argue that the reason why most hate their own photo is because we have grown accustom to our view from a mirror. But the mirror is not a real representation of us, it it the reverse image. Writing your own name on a piece of paper and than flipping the image backwards does not describe to you your name. Yet daily we live with the image of ourselves in reverse. I try to spot the images of a famous movie stars in the reverse image of mirrors in their featured movies. Most every movie will have a mirror scene in it. I like looking at the movie star in that moment, because I feel as though I am really looking at them, or the way they see themselves. You can see the reverse side of their expression and maybe even caught a glimpse at the insecurity of who they really are. 

I stood watching a lightening storm roll in and over head last night. I am not here to try and describe to you how it came or what the it felt like, because I believe each of us has our own personal version of a lightening storm that we would want to write and share as well. I would much rather appeal to the great gathering of us all in that we have all been wonderfully impressed by lightening. But in that moment of watching it, I thought of the childhood story of Benjamin Franklin who decided that taking a kite out into the storm with a metal key was the best idea for him at that moment in life. We all applaud that advancement of Benjamin Franklin for doing this, but do we ever think that it could have been us? I was always taught that Benjamin Franklin was so wise and infinite that he knew what he was doing. As I stood exposed to that lightening storm last night aware of electricity and its power, and well taught about Benji's kite and key I was afraid of anything metal around and on me. Who was this American Inventor who was not afraid to face the storm?

I buy a specific journal each time. I have had this as a habit for at least three years of my life. The cost of the journal is twice as much as any of the other journals on the market. Still I find the journal itself to be highly effective and agreeable. The balance of the hard leather covers make itself easy to write in if you are not near a table. The thickness of the paper ensures that you will not rip through it with the tip of your pen, or that rain drops will curl the whole book if they are to hit the open page. The journal secures a pen along side of it, but is not so large and bulky as to give you the feeling of carrying a brick. It the worst of situations I have shoved it into my back pocket to carry. This is why I have chosen this journal to carry my life thoughts. But still each time I fill the journal to its full, I question whether or not I deserve another one to start all over again.