The last few years I’ve been throwing a lot of my private life and thoughts in the open (online). I don’t really have that many secrets anymore, because I spilled it all on my blog. Not a too bad a thing, but I figured I should leave something to the imagination. Most of you out there don’t need to know everything about all assets of me. Beside that, I love to be able to read back in diary’s and journals, something that is all me, in which I was totally honest about how I felt, no matter how silly, and of which only I know. I also think it’s good to have something where I can spill all without having to think of phrasing and who might read it. It’s got nothing to do with whoever is reading. It has all to do with me wanting to regain some privacy, and with allowing myself to let off steam whenever I need to. I think it’s a good thing.
I also see my new diary effort as a study of who I am. I planned to fill the diary with information about my research to my identity and origin. I think it would make an interesting work for me in the future. I’m already looking forward to rereading about my search.
I’ve been rereading old diaries. Some go back to my early childhood (from 8 to 15 or something). And then some diaries that mark my coming off age. It’s nice to have those memories written down and illustrated; it really takes me back to what was. I can see my development. I get embarrassed, or pleased. It’s funny.
A few times I’ve been kind of worrying about how I will look at the younger me when I’m rereading when I’m turning 40 or 50. I’m afraid I will find theories childish or stupid. Things I’ve thought out and I truly believe in now. It makes me feel stupid now. I’m not the smartest person in the world, but I’m definitely not the stupidest person in the world either. It’s inevitable I will find theories stupid in the future.
Not really to worry about, but still I do. I’m going to leave it all to fate and future. We will see, I’m not afraid.
Here we go.
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