It’s a Fierce,  Radical, Messy Rebellion (And It’s Finally Real.) I didn’t set out to create a journal. In fact, I avoided it for a long time—because most journals felt like one more thing I was supposed to do right while burned out. They wanted tidy gratitude lists. I had sarcasm and rage. They offered evening routines. I was heading to bed at 7pm, staring at the ceiling and questioning capitalism.