On Diary Writing

Why is it that every time I set foot into the house I rush to table where my diary and pen await?

Lately, I have been quite frantic about recording every experience. Its almost as if they're dreams... i.e. these experiences I go through during the day. The only way to legitimize them as reality is to carve them in stone, so to say. For some reason, I feel like whenever an important event happens in one's life, it is worth penning. No excuses. Not recording these experiences on one's personal scribes makes them as irrelevant and insignificant as if they hadn't occurred.

I guess this is the explanation I had been seeking to explain my impulsively strange addition to penning the events that shape my life. I guess I'm sharing it here because it might just be another one of those epiphanies that happen so rarely in life...