During my childhood I was obsessed with maintaining a diary but I doubt I kept it for more than a day. I was more paranoid that someone else would read it. Due to this fear, I ended up erasing whatever I wrote. So now, I have no written proof to embarrass myself of my childish immaturity. (:(
More recently (if you compare the time difference to, say the mesozoic era), I caught on this bug again. This time I made it a doodle diary, filling the pages with tiny doodles that depicted various events of my day. They are pretty generic and more artsy than to actually capture memories (obviously). Here are two pages of that journal.
Figure it out! 🙂