of delving into memories

oh my dear Lord … save me from the mortification of finding any more of my old journals while unpacking crates for the bookshelves … seriously, this one is from my ’30’s and is bad enough – cannot even BEGIN to think what a maudlin embarrassing mess a journal from my teens would be – thank goodness I didn’t journal then! Honestly, I’m not one for beating myself up about past mistakes (which is not to say that I don’t have regrets!) but I could quite happily have given that chick ie me a good slap across the back of the head and said ‘wake up to yourself!’

Pardon me while I just go hide it somewhere … there’s some good stuff in it so parts of it may survive … the rest just may end up on a bonfire next weekend – a fiery sacrifice of lessons learned, nitwittery moved on from, and useless delusions examined and revealed for what they were 🙂

2 thoughts on “of delving into memories

  1. Hah! I wrote a diary when I was going through my anguished teens – desperately in love with a music teacher, confused about sex, God, the Universe…hating my mother, and having crushes left, right and centre!!! When I left for university I ceremoniously burned them (because I wouldn’t let “my cow of a mother” read them) (Could I point out that I love my mother dearly and no longer regard her as a “cow”!!!). I wish I still hd them – I’m sure I would either scream with laughter or blush with embarrassment!

  2. I’ve got all my old diaries and want to write my life story. My Dad did it so why shouldn’t I?

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