It’s nice to go to sleep alone, to wake up alone, to go through your morning routine as you planned it, without need of any thought of how it will affect someone else. There you are alone in your ideas, feeling your own presence.
Sitting with a journal, you can write what is on your mind, whether it be mundane or profound. If anyone were to find it and judge you for what you had written, their condemnation would be irrelevant. What you wrote was for you, and you alone.
Even soldiers were once taught to retreat within their own minds, to see a home of their own construction in the event that they were captured as prisoners of war. With practice, they would clearly visualize their doors, their library, their desk, stepping inside to gain that precious gift of solitude.
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