Let The Journal Begin...
For New Year, New Projects Challenge.
New Year’s resolutions have always felt doomed, but after a year of frustrations and too few wins, I’m stepping into 2025 with a deeply personal plan: to write my life, one day at a time.
I will write about my other, more expansive, world-dominating “Pinky and The Brain” style plans elsewhere for the year we formally call 2025. You can judge whether it will be a “Paul summer” this year instead of 2024’s “Brat Summer.”
Every Journal Starts With a Single Page
I intend to write a journal this year.
I have never written a journal. I have never written an entire year’s worth of a diary. I am not sure how it will go. But, as I will be the decidedly over-ripe age of 45 by the end of this 'ere month at the start of this year, no person should be on their planet for as long as me without attempting journaling. Not least, someone like me who claims to be a fantastic and prolific poet and writer. Yeah, I put the poet part first when usually I'd put the poet part last. Anyway, I fear I am getting waylaid and distracted.
I had planned to get myself together with a physical notebook/journal before the 1st, but I haven't, so my first entry will be this. When I procure the journal, I shall transcribe it and whatever other day’s entries I have written in my eligible handwriting.
Have you ever thought about documenting your life for a year? Not for anyone else—just for you? That’s what I’m trying, and who knows? Maybe you’ll join me.
Why Journal, Paul?
One of my problems with diaries was that I got bored very quickly. After a three-day streak of "Dear diary, I went to school today, and at least someone called me four-eyes" or "Dear diary, I think Irn Bru is pure dead brilliant," I would stop. Those are not actual entries. However, I am sure you get the point I am trying to make.
After writing consistently almost daily for several years now and given that my poetry and even much of my fictional output includes a heavy dose of Paul, it no longer feels like a solid argument to say, "I wouldn't know what to write!" or “I don’t think I want to share my thoughts and feelings on paper, even with myself!” It’s hard to argue that point when you’ve already shared so much of yourself with a small village of people.
That is why journaling feels more like "me." I envision my journaling as being very loose regarding any rigid format. I will jot down whatever's on my mind and what's happening in my life. There will be doodles and many ideas for writing, poems, stories, lists for life, house, and Paul stuff, and titbits related to that as I soon begin looking for work.
What’s The End Goal?
What is the end goal for this? As is often the case, my brain runs at about 29,000 miles per hour, so when I combine ideas, little thought is given to the end goal unless it is directly related to the concept.
However, the win would be to reach the end of the year and have a journal full of (give or take a day or two here and there) 365 days' worth of Paul's thoughts, feelings, scribblings, etchings, doodlings, mumblings, and inanities.
The question on everyone's pouty lips is, "What will you do with your yearlong 2025 journal?"
I haven't a clue. It depends on how the year goes. If it's interesting enough, though I doubt it, I might self-publish it in 2026. Then, people will be able to experience my year in journal form. Bestseller list, here we come.
As the year progresses, though, and as I fill the journal, bearing my soul on paper, I’m sure it will feed into future poems and stories, thought pieces and satire.
Journaling, in a funny covert way, has always been the skeleton around which my ideas take shape. Even if I have never outright called it journaling. This year, I’m giving myself a richer framework to build on.
So, along with self-reflection and insight into my psyche, I guarantee many usable fiction, poetry, and other pieces will emerge from journaling.
I am submitting this first journal entry into the Vocal challenge.
So that’s something.
What Will I Learn?
Initially, I saw it as a nice excuse to write and try something different. Then, the more I thought about it, the more I realised it might help me better organise my thoughts, formulate plans for my life, and generally relax my mind.
I fully expect that the same issues, particularly mental and personal issues, will make repeated appearances, and I may get bored with the repetitive nature of that. But, with that boredom will come the impetus to sort through those issues.
By December 31st 2025, I hope to be stronger and more confident.
I want to feel like a more rounded Paul, a Paul that meets my vision of who I could be.
How Will I Go About It?
Aside from just getting down to it and doing it, the most crucial part of having a goal is planning or thinking about how you will do it. How will I go about writing this 2025 journal?
It’s simple: I will write daily, as I have done, and keep it open and unfiltered. That sounds simple, but that’s because it is simple—in theory.
The great thing is that I don’t need to worry about people getting to know my innermost and most profound, most terrible thoughts if I don’t want them to. It can sometimes be a roadblock if it is a more public writing goal.
However, anyone who has read anything I’ve written will know I don’t often care too much about people knowing that much about me.
Ultimately, this journal is for me—no audience, no performance, just Paul. Typically, when I write, it is for others' consumption. Even if I don’t write pandering to an audience, the result or goal is to share it with the world, or Vocal at least. My 2025 journal is different, and it thrills me.
I am not going to put restrictions on word counts and what constitutes a journal entry. It can be as short as a word and as long as a five-page essay, as far as I am concerned. It is as much about doing it consistently as it is about what it contains.
Here’s to 2025: the year I stop writing just for the world and start writing for me. Whether it changes my life or just gives me something to laugh at in 2026, I’m ready to find out.
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Thanks for reading!
Author's Notes: I have a few things planned for 2025, but my journal felt big and significant enough to warrant a piece focused on it. As highlighted above, I will delve into my other plans in other entries to this challenge.
Here are some other things I have written and published recently:
About the Creator
Paul Stewart
Award-Winning Writer, Poet, Scottish-Italian, Subversive.
The Accidental Poet - Poetry Collection out now!
Streams and Scratches in My Mind coming soon!
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Don’t Waste Your Life
The alarm rang at 9:30 a.m., but Hamza did not move. He stared at the ceiling, scrolling endlessly through his phone. One video became ten. Ten became fifty. Outside his window, the sun had already climbed high, shining brightly over the small town where life was moving forward without him. Hamza was nineteen, full of dreams once—but lately, those dreams felt distant. He used to talk about becoming a civil engineer, about building strong bridges and tall buildings that would carry his name into the future. But now, his days were filled with excuses. “I’ll start tomorrow,” he often said. Tomorrow became next week. Next week became next month. His mother would gently knock on his door. “Beta, the day is going. Do something meaningful.” “I will,” he would reply lazily, never lifting his eyes from the screen. Hamza was not a bad person. He was kind, polite, and intelligent. But he had fallen into the dangerous habit of wasting time. He didn’t realize that time is the only treasure that never returns once spent. One evening, while wandering outside aimlessly, he noticed an old man sitting on a bench near the park. The man was writing in a small notebook, his hands wrinkled but steady. Curious and slightly bored, Hamza sat down beside him. “What are you writing?” Hamza asked. “My memories,” the old man replied with a soft smile. “I am writing about the life I lived.” “Was it a good life?” Hamza asked casually. The old man paused. His eyes grew distant. “Some parts were beautiful. Some parts… I wasted.” Hamza looked at him more closely. “When I was your age,” the old man continued, “I had many opportunities. I wanted to start a business. I wanted to travel. I wanted to learn new skills. But I kept delaying. I kept thinking I had plenty of time.” He closed the notebook slowly. “Now I am seventy-eight. I have time—but not the energy. I have wisdom—but not the years.” The words struck Hamza harder than he expected. “Do you regret it?” Hamza asked quietly. “Yes,” the old man said honestly. “Not because I failed. But because I never truly tried.” That sentence echoed in Hamza’s mind the entire night. Not because I failed. But because I never truly tried. Back in his room, Hamza stared at his ceiling again. But this time, his phone lay silent beside him. He imagined himself at seventy-eight, holding a notebook filled with regrets. The thought frightened him. He began thinking about his father, who worked long hours every day to support the family. About his mother, who prayed for his success. About his younger sister, who looked up to him as a role model. Was he truly living? Or was he just passing time? The next morning, Hamza did something unusual. He woke up at 6 a.m. The sky was still painted in soft shades of pink and orange. For the first time in months, he watched the sunrise. It felt different. He opened his notebook and wrote three simple goals: Study for three hours daily. Exercise for thirty minutes. Learn one new skill every month. They were small goals—but they were a start. The first week was difficult. His mind constantly whispered, “Just relax today. You can start tomorrow.” But he remembered the old man’s regretful eyes. He forced himself to continue. Slowly, discipline replaced laziness. He began preparing for university entrance exams seriously. He reduced his time on social media. He started reading books about successful people—not just their achievements, but their struggles. He learned that greatness is not built in comfort. It is built in effort. Months passed. Hamza didn’t become a genius overnight. He didn’t suddenly turn into a millionaire. But he changed in a deeper way—he respected his time. When friends invited him to waste hours doing nothing, he sometimes joined—but in moderation. He understood that rest is important, but wasting life is dangerous. One afternoon, he visited the park again. The old man was there, writing as usual. “You look different,” the old man observed with a smile. “I stopped waiting for tomorrow,” Hamza replied. The old man nodded slowly. “That is the secret. Tomorrow is a promise that is never guaranteed.” Hamza sat beside him and shared his new routine, his goals, and his small victories. The old man listened proudly. “Remember,” the old man said, “life is not about being busy every second. It is about being purposeful. Even a small step each day can change your entire future.” Years later, Hamza stood on a construction site, wearing a white helmet with his company’s logo printed on it. He had completed his engineering degree. It wasn’t easy. There were failures, sleepless nights, and moments of doubt. But he never returned to the habit of wasting time carelessly. He often told his team, “Time is like water in your hands. If you don’t use it wisely, it slips away.” One evening, after finishing work, Hamza visited the same park bench. The old man was no longer there. A local vendor told him softly, “He passed away last winter.” Hamza felt a wave of sadness—but also gratitude. He sat on the bench and opened his own notebook. He began writing: “Today I completed another project. I helped build something that will stand for decades. I am tired—but proud.” He smiled gently. He understood something powerful: Life is not wasted in one big mistake. It is wasted in small daily neglect. In endless scrolling. In constant delay. In fear of trying. And life is built the same way—through small daily efforts. Through discipline. Through courage to start. As the sun began to set, painting the sky golden, Hamza whispered to himself: “Don’t waste your life. You don’t need to be perfect. You just need to begin.” The wind moved softly through the trees, as if agreeing. Every sunrise is a silent gift. It arrives without asking for anything in return. But it also carries a quiet question: What will you do with today? Hamza finally knew the answer. He would not waste it.
By The best writer a day ago in Motivation
Rage
Content Warning: Domestic Violence, Assault Rage D. A. Ratliff “Who did this?” My voice echoed through the house. All I wanted was a cup of tea, but one of the twins, running through the house like maniacs, knocked it over. My nerves tingled, and every muscle in my body felt coiled like a spring. Survival seemed out of reach.
By D. A. Ratliff4 days ago in Fiction
Comments (21)
Oh good luck and enjoy the journey! I've kept a private journal since the pandemic and it's honestly been really nice knowing no one else will read it when so many of my thoughts are published. It can feel intimidating at times, but at the end of a day it's just a blank page and you know what to do with those!
I like that you're going in without a word count goal or rigid expectations, definitely keeps things open to make daily journaling valuable in whatever capacity you need it to be for that day! I've never been able to manage one, so props to you for undertaking this endeavor and good luck!!
I'm excited to see what you do this year 😁
Oh, man, a year of Paul. Surely to be one of the greats, right alongside the Summer of George. Love the idea of a journal! I've always found writing by hand to be much more stimulating (and science backs up that your brain is more active than when typing), so who knows what ideas or story plots you'll come up with. It's the same reason I draft all my poems on a legal pad. I'd do the same for short stories, but transcribing more than a few hundred words is a pain and God knows how long it would take me to finish writing a 5,000-word story by hand. Godspeed! (Also I chuckled at you not already having the journal. Classic Paul)
I think you will find it very therapeutic Paul. I have had a journal going for the last 18 months. It is a way of expressing your personal thoughts that you can look back on at some stage and see how far you have come. I opted fro a computer journal because my hand writing is so bad when I get going, not even I can read it later !@!@! I wish you the best with it.
I applaud you, Sir Paul. My commitment issues could never. Like you with a diary, I tend to get bored easily with just about anything. I wish you all the best with your journal. Hopefully you publish it next year and it becomes a bestseller!
Good luck on writing a journal and it could be a way to starting an autobiography.
Good luck with the journaling. I was always bad at keeping a diary. The only thing I stuck to was keeping a travel journal for a year when I went backpacking round Oz. Wishing you a really happy new year and much success and happiness to you.
OK! The dedication and personal nakedness that this is going to entail already has me enthralled. Crikey Paul. This is brave!
Love this Paul, it made me smile!! Cheers to finding/ searching for the best audience to write for... yourself!! I hope it brings you the satisfaction you need!!
🤔😳🤯Your humble student has only one question Master Paul. How on earth will you write something more insanely stream of consciousness and personal than the soul baring, random, iconoclastic genius, wild-ass crazy stuff you usually write? Just sayin’. Course, could just be a deficit of imagination on my part. The season of resolution is upon us and the more of these entries I read and I’m like What! I can’t compete with this stuff! What the hell am I supposed to write?! 2025 I hate u already!
So, will you publish your daily pages on Vocal? Happy New Year, Paul & Ruth
Excellent goal, Paul! I wish you the best in this new, personal writing endeavor! You're inspiring me to try and pick up a journal too :)
I think it's a great idea, whether you eventually decide to publish it or not. I'm convinced it will inspire future stories/poems, etc. An intriguing project, for sure. Happy new year, buddy.
I’d crush an irn bruh right now…
from one non filtered person to another, Journaling is a very good idea. I tried and I go good for a couple days then I get bored. I really enjoyed my time Button Journaling. It was fun but because of my arthritis it's hard for me to actually hand write stuff. anyway I wish you luck & success on it! ❤️☺️
I started journalling aged 10 and continued for years until well into my thirties. Not necessarily every day but regularly and, in my teenage angst period, it often felt like a lifeline. Still have all the jotters, it's quite a pile! Journalling lost to computers at some point but I still write down an odd thought or a particularly interesting dream sometimes. It's more like once in a few years these days though...
I like this idea! How do you mean you kinda use journalling as a technique for writing now? I.e “Journaling, in a funny covert way, has always been the skeleton around which my ideas take shape”? I’ve got many notebooks as you know but they aren’t exactly a journal. I try to write down in planner what I do during the week but that has mostly fallen by the wayside of late.. I didn’t even know there was a new challenge and these pieces above look amazing. Please send me a telegram in the next 30 hrs if I fail to look at these. Anyway there’s some good goals laced throughout here that I related too. Peace out! 😁
Good luck with the journal. I'd like to think that it is something that if I did would be interesting but I don't know. It'd be things like "did washing. 2 loads! Spag Bol for tea. Trod in dog poo. Stinks! Got a question right on University Challenge. Result!" See? Not that inspiring but maybe it's just the writing again that matters? Who know? Anyway, bonne chance, mon ami!
Good Luck to your Journal. I admire your writing because you do not filter your thoughts. That's special to open yourself up to strangers.
Great job! Sounds like you’re set for a great 2025. All the best ✅.