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I've kept a paper journal, in various ways, since I was in high school. Generally, I finish a book, put it on the shelf, and go on to the next, rarely looking at the old material: whatever needs it's filling seem to be satisfied by the writing.
This morning I was looking for some of my very old journals, and couldn't find them. I found the very first, which was a bit too early and ended with the note "Continued in next book." The notebook next to it was from several years later, and then the ones following on were of the same physical style, and apparently in chronological order.
I am now considering opening some boxes that have been sitting in the foyer since we moved in here, to see if they contain what I'm looking for. Alternatively, I can rummage through those memories without the paper that might add to, confirm, or contradict what I remember. In some ways that feels safer.
[Comments on this entry screened, because the topic is somewhat fraught and I may not be up to dealing with certain topics in comment threads.]
This morning I was looking for some of my very old journals, and couldn't find them. I found the very first, which was a bit too early and ended with the note "Continued in next book." The notebook next to it was from several years later, and then the ones following on were of the same physical style, and apparently in chronological order.
I am now considering opening some boxes that have been sitting in the foyer since we moved in here, to see if they contain what I'm looking for. Alternatively, I can rummage through those memories without the paper that might add to, confirm, or contradict what I remember. In some ways that feels safer.
[Comments on this entry screened, because the topic is somewhat fraught and I may not be up to dealing with certain topics in comment threads.]
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