Tonight I sat on my balcony (since I won’t have a balcony soon) with my portable barbeque, a lighter, and two of my old journals.
However cleansed you felt having written a journal in your late teens/early twenties…let me tell you, you’ll feel ~more~ cleansed the moment you rip out a page you just read and watch it smoulder on the ashes of it’s fallen comrades.
I read two journals from about 11 years ago. I probably spanned ages 21 and 22.
I’m happy to report I’ve learned a lot since then.
I am embarrassed to report that I was a complete nitwit…and probably still am in some arenas.
Know what else? I found half a tab of acid, wrapped in cigarette foil, stapled to one of the pages. A little journal detective work leads me to the conclusion that I ate the other half of that tab on Bermuda Shorts Day during my 3rd year of university.
I had no idea I had that. I don’t think I’ve touched the stuff for at least a decade.
It went in the toilet.