This is my second (of three) entries for week #23 of
therealljidol.
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Rocks and LaddersMy parents still live in the house where I grew up. For now at least. They're thinking of moving into a smaller place and they should, even though the thought makes me profoundly sad. My brother and I have both expressed our sorrow to our parents but also stressed that
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Bravo! This is publishable.
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I'm really glad you enjoyed this one. It was the last one I finished this week and I felt like I had to force every single word out. I had an idea of what I was going to write about and usually that means the writing part comes easily, but nope. This one felt like passing a kidney stone through my eye.
My relationships with my past and future selves is complicated - I imagine everyone's is. I spend so much time thinking "Oh, now I get it, now I'm grown up" and then also thinking "I hope I really get this when I'm older." Sometimes I feel totally disconnected from anyone I ever was before (or ever will be again). I've come to believe that our personalities are more like fluid and less like sculpture.
Thank you for reading and commenting!
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I began journaling when I was twelve. I've gone back a few times throughout my life and read my journals. It rarely ever made me feel good. A lot of words about a lot of feelings about which I can do nothing. And yet, I always felt that what I was doing, recording my life, was important.
Maybe it's good to look back and realize that we have so much more than we dreamed about when we were younger.
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What I find when I read my old journal entries is that I remember things differently than I recorded them at the time. Basically, I've come to realize my memory is unreliable. Bad brain!
Thank you for reading and commenting!
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and was disappointed to discover it was basically list of grievances with specific adults.That seems like a lot of my youth as well. Anything I was interested in, though, at least when I was much younger... I was trying to DO. Sometimes in a semi-random sideways fashion, but still ( ... )
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