Journals
I found some old journals over the weekend. It reminded me of my old sexcapades, and by sexcapades I mean, there was none. But I did talk about each and every boy that I ever dated and kissed. I am really embarrassed by them and considering throwing them away. I don’t want my kids to find these and realize what a hussy I was, and by hussy I mean hussy. Dang it.
I also found them incredibly irresistible reads. I could not put them down. I was truly fascinated by my old self and the person that I was. There were also times that I was so depressed. It made me sad for that person.
You know e.e.cummings, this was my sad attempt at poetry. I think it was very telling.
There were journal entries from when I was a child. It made me want to be a better parent. I want to be remembered well.
