I'm a nineties kid, by way of which I grew up then. In the nineties!
The good ol' nineties - I miss you. I can't even believe the pile of
emotional garbage I've written here on this blog yet somehow
it would pain me to have it deleted. It's been my friend of sorts. Is
it silly that I worry that my paper journals will meet their fate when
dust termites begin to attack? How will I preserve them? Here's a
tip, if you are okay, and able to let go of your journal to junk it. Don't
do it. As in yes, you can junk it but burn it before you do. Trust me.
Unless you're okay with bequeathing it to someone of consequence
whom you know will publish it when you're old/dead/dying and you
don't really care anymore. Lesson learnt from precaution. Lightning
strikes outside, I would have gotten poetic about it some ten years
ago but now I'm just like, eh, whatever. I just wish I was 17 again. Like
in that Zac Efron movie or that Eurythmics track, you know the one?
The good ol' nineties - I miss you. I can't even believe the pile of
emotional garbage I've written here on this blog yet somehow
it would pain me to have it deleted. It's been my friend of sorts. Is
it silly that I worry that my paper journals will meet their fate when
dust termites begin to attack? How will I preserve them? Here's a
tip, if you are okay, and able to let go of your journal to junk it. Don't
do it. As in yes, you can junk it but burn it before you do. Trust me.
Unless you're okay with bequeathing it to someone of consequence
whom you know will publish it when you're old/dead/dying and you
don't really care anymore. Lesson learnt from precaution. Lightning
strikes outside, I would have gotten poetic about it some ten years
ago but now I'm just like, eh, whatever. I just wish I was 17 again. Like
in that Zac Efron movie or that Eurythmics track, you know the one?
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