Start a blog, I was told. With pictures or illustrations and a few sentences. He asked me if I wanted to read it. I laughed and said yes. If that's what you want to read, find something like that and read it.
Records are important. Over time, memories become fuzzy. They get rewritten to suit themselves. When it comes to what you said or didn't say (if you had tough feelings), records can support your mind.
Even yesterday's memory is not certain. Even the strongest memories of years ago are only pleasant or unpleasant, and the details may be forgotten.
That's why I record.
A few years ago, I carefully shaped, wrapped, and closed the ziploc. Recorded it to be stored in the freezer. Hard to read and messed up writing. I dutifully wrote it down. Yesterday I opened it. A record of what I wrote in desperation years ago. When I was writing it, which was nothing but pain, I was told that one day I would have to come back here again, and that I should write every single word.
I must make sure of that.
The record is pointing in the same direction as my memory
People falsify their memories. They see what they want to see. I am no different. The record is only written through my feelings. However, this record gives me a little strength to my unsure feelings.
Let's fight. (2023/10/13 08:14:37)
