Before I was even interested in writing, I kept a journal of observations. Or, maybe it wasn’t before, but because I kept a journal of observations, I became interested in writing. It started off as a way for me to put the ideas down from my head that I couldn’t afford to keep in there any longer. They were observations about people, about interactions, about trends, about society, about girls, about assignments, to-do lists, projects, jokes, and sketches. I don’t remember how exactly I started, and I don’t believe in God, but I thank the past consciousness that was myself, that I was able to keep this journal.
Spontaneous combustion does not exist and neither does creativity. There are events, and they may be small and they may be invisible, but somethings gotta ignite and the flames look more beautiful if they’re mysterious. The notes in my journal have helped me immensely in faking creativity and making mediocre fires. I suggest everyone write in a journal. The observations haven’t just served me as a second-hand memory but their writing has served as training for my brain. Having these observations become a part of my life has, I believe made me more observant, and a better writer than I would be without it. Along with observation comes introspection, and a journal has also helped with this, pushing my own thoughts about consciousness and the self into the graphite on the page so that I can;t force them back into half-hearted desires. But you shouldn’t take my word for it because I have not written anything of substance-yet. Walden is undoubtedly something of substance, so take the advice instead from Thoreau and others. Here is an article about keeping a diary.