I've had a lot of people ask me why I throw away most of my journals and diaries, why I've never really felt attached to things so personal and so close and how I can just throw them away with the rest of the junk I throw out every single day, sometimes even burn them so that no one gets to peep into my life and know what I'm all about on the inside. This year, I promised a friend that I wouldn't, that I'd give it to her instead, for her to keep for the sake of my memories.
Every year that I write a journal, I realize so much about life, sometimes in the most unwanted and unwished for of ways that keeping the memories so close almost hurts as much. Keeping that diary around makes me want to read it, makes me want to relive a past that has its own good and bad. Its not the bad that I regret. Its the sinking feeling of realization that hits me time and again with the same impact. Its hard to believe that some things in life never die, some feelings can never be forgotten even if you don't feel the same at that very moment. Some lessons leave a mark so deep that as time passes you treasure that lesson, that mark with your life.
4 comments:
I used to do the same thing. Write a journal each night. And this is long ago, there weren't really computers in every house then, so I am talking about actually putting pen to paper.
I never really had the guts to read the older posts as I kept on filling more and more pages each night. And then one fine day, I burned them all. Don't know why.
Guess I am beyond the stage in life when you want memories, or I guess it's because I am bald. No idea!
You don't get to decide what memories you want though. They're there. On paper or etched in your thoughts, but they're there. Having them on paper makes it difficult to forget, while you can trust time to fade the memories away if they're solely in your mind. I guess thats why I burn my journals.
Gee I guess that's why I burnt them too. I don't like having emotional baggage too. Makes me crazy.
I know!!! Sigh.
Post a Comment