2025-02-11

I don't have the habit of reading my previous logs before writing a new one for the day. I have written some logs that seem that they are progressive in itself but that was because of a repetition of an event in my life, its theme becoming more palpable as each day pass, with it automatically becoming the topic at the top of my head to write at the end of the day. Perhaps it is something I can try because since most of my backlogs have been flushed out last month, I am consciously thinking throughout my day about what I would write. Will it be something that happened today or a thought in the previous days that I can press on for today? It is possible that this is one of the reasons why had days when writing felt somehow undesired.

So if it's in the question where I am consciously masking myself to preserve a certain distance to myself from the kind of "digital portrait" that I am putting up here, it is only obvious to say that yes, there are things I am aware and choosing not to say here. In most cases, such as the way I write logs, it will come across as somewhere between an autobiography and a memoir. Technically, it is just a glorified journal in the form of a website. In this case, only you as the reader can make sense of what is being written here. I am one of those readers.

Is this an exercise on the truthfulness of autobiographical writing? How much power does the self-awareness of the speaking persona in the text hold as a reliable narrator? How can we measure my honesty when I say that I am aware that I am withholding things from you as the reader? How will this self-exploration and journey into the self commence as an exercise of introspection and self-discovery?

Well, at this point, we all know that you are a prisoner and I am the truthsayer. We are located in a place of isolation where the only source of truth are the things that I write here. You read them and they manifest into something real because this is self-awareness manifest. I hide things from you. Yet, with this level of honesty, it becomes more difficult to trust what is being written. Then again you have no choice but to read on.

Good lord, it didn't take me this long to bring myself back to my old habits of writing. I am once again talking to myself and to innumerable others.