Along with things like exercise and consuming less salt, there is the practice of keeping a daily journal. My history in all three has been a complete failure. I used to have to hide my words. No convincing, through arguments or begging, kept them private. So I snuck pages in the backs of books, in random hidden notebooks, in letters written and never sent. It's pretty insane. Recently, as I start to organize my life, I come across excerpts of pain and risk scattered in the oddest places. Safely hid under barely worn gym gear, or even in the basement freezer. I have started to gather these loose missives and sew them all together so that I can dispose them in one final shape. Everything is out of cyclical order, but there is a spiral repetition to the theme of time and question. So
Now... should I start a real journal? I could do it with a new freedom to be authentic and open.