Playing Pianos Filled With Flames
Unfortunately I don't know that this journal represents who I am anymore. Perhaps that's why I stopped writing in it. Maybe that means I need to clean it up and put a few face on it. Reclaim it.
My mother has kept a diary every day since she was 12 years old. That is, I believe, about half a century of records. She showed them to me the other day - an entire cabinet filled with books. I kept one intermittently since 2003, apparently. I have 624 entries of bits. A bunch of particles stuck aligned on a hard drive somewhere. What's going on in life these days? It's all very different than it was a few years ago, or even last year.
So I'm not sure what to do, but I thought I'd say Hi.
Hi.
My mother has kept a diary every day since she was 12 years old. That is, I believe, about half a century of records. She showed them to me the other day - an entire cabinet filled with books. I kept one intermittently since 2003, apparently. I have 624 entries of bits. A bunch of particles stuck aligned on a hard drive somewhere. What's going on in life these days? It's all very different than it was a few years ago, or even last year.
So I'm not sure what to do, but I thought I'd say Hi.
Hi.