Dear Diary

I've never kept a diary, I've written numerous holiday journals and for the past couple of years I've rabbited away on this blog but I've never written in a proper diary.  I was about to say that I'm not sure why, but the real reason is that if I starting writing one then I would have to be honest about everything, feelings, emotions, relationships, everything and I don't think that I could do that.

No that's not true, I could do it, but then I would be terrified that somebody might read it.  After all what would people think of me if they knew that instead of being the kind of person who always believes that the cup is half full, they suddenly realised that sometimes I could scream about life not being fair and regret that I didn't have the courage to do things that might now have me living on the lap of luxury on a Caribbean island.

I couldn't cope with laying myself out to such scrutiny when the times I spend navel gazing are so infrequent.  Most of the time my cup really is half full, it's just now and again, usually after a disturbed night or bad news, that I could put my head in my hands and weep about how shitty life is.   Introspection would give me an ulcer, so I think that I am far better off looking on the bright side, keeping my chin up and occasionally topping up the half full glass.

There is a diarist I particularly admire though.  Alright Tit is the diary of a young woman who has been having treatment for breast cancer.  She writes with passion and humour about a subject that most of us, if we are honest, would prefer not to think about.  

The funny thing is that I only found her blog because of Twitter - Steven Fry again - 

I think it's fabulous that potentially millions of people all over the world can now read such an inspirational story just because they can access a computer.  

As I've said many times before, this interwebby thingy is a very strange place....