Today was a repeat of yesterday. It's awesome. I've put off grocery shopping to the point where I have only pasta and sauce left. Tomorrow I will get shit done, I tell myself. I don't understand this lack of ambition.
I'm wary of whose eyes are seeing this right now. Daisy did a dumb thing and exposed this blog to eyes I wouldn't normally have wanted on it. I never advertised this to anyone I knew. I started this with the understanding that strangers would read it, and that was comforting. Anything but the social circle I was stuck in at the time. Readers became friends, and that was okay. Friends did not become readers. I spent a few days reading everything I wrote here in chronological order. I gave up somewhere in 2006 but stopped myself from deleting a lot of stuff. A lot, but not all. I don't feel bad about that either. I'm not done, and soon I'll get through the rest of it with a scalpel and be satisfied.
While cleaning out my bookshelf I found my old journal that was purchased for me by my dad while I was in 5th grade to improve my handwriting. Everyday he would check it to make sure I wrote in it so it's full of bullshit entries that I kept up until he got bored and forgot to check anymore. When teenagerdom hit it actually got used more often, but mostly when I was going through the bullshit emotional trauma of the time. In highschool there a large lull and then after that it was only used when I was going through what I felt was major shit. All that said, there is a good chunk of it torwards the end that is still empty.
So I found this relic of brain vomit and opened to a few random pages. The words on the page were still fresh in my mind, and I hated that. So I destroyed it. Page after page came out in my hands to be ripped in half and then quarters and then eighths if I felt like it. Some of the pages stayed in tact because I just didn't feel like ripping shit up. I left a few scattered entries in what is now a tattered hardcover with the strings hanging out and a bunch of loose pages tucked back inside.
The garbage bag went into the dumpster and that was that. Goodbye memory.
And bit by bit, I want the rest of my brain to be cleaned.
Heresy
2 comments:
obviously i'm not you and maybe you've done this before, but i dunno... if you add up all the times i've gone through my blog deleting right and left, it probably adds up to over half of it, seriously - not to mention the ENTIRE blog i got rid of. and i gotta say that for the most part i really regret it. so i hope you're thinking twice about getting rid of shit permanently.
as for teenage journal drama - oh man. the quicker it's gone the better. you'll never regret that. ever. did you have really bad handwriting at some point? 'cause i still have my postcards from you and your writing is quite legible.
anyway, i know i'm forever planting my lips on your ass, but i think you're the raddest. i don't know how you do it, but you do have such a way with putting exactly what i want to say into better words than i ever could.
Whereas I prefer how you write and think you are the raddest so it's really just mutual asskissery.
As a child I must have had shit writing, I don't know. I remember not liking most of my teachers and them being bitches, so maybe they brought it up to my parents at p/t interviews, which would lead my dad to the logical solution of journal inspection.
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