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By Serge Smith

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2013 Serge Smith

September 4

Keeping a diary always seemed to me a rather strange concept—at least, as strange as the motives of those who maintained them. I could never imagine what could possibly be happening in the lives of such people that they believed warranted recording it for posterity. What gave them the notion that their lives were worthy of documentation?

To my mind, this practice seemed to be a manifestation of some inbuilt and possibly pathological vanity, an excessive fascination with one’s own persona, coupled with a passionate desire to gain some semblance of immortality. That was the only way I could account for the curious belief that the events of one ordinary person’s life could be of interest to others who might happen to read such a journal.

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