Years in review.
I stopped writing. For a long time. It's always interesting to me to go back and read my old blogs, online journals, and real (paper) diaries. This happens every few years, it seems - I stop writing, I go back, I re-read, and I don't recognize the person or place I was in anymore. I feel detached, and it doesn't seem "real" or authentic. I find that I am tempted to delete things; yet I know that I will regret it if I do. So, it stays. My old Livejournal.com accounts, my old posts here. Maybe I'll archive them, maybe I won't. Maybe it will be entertaining for others to read and see all the old perspectives. I recently revived my old Diaryland.com account after thinking that it had been permanently erased. It was both a relief and a source of anxiety - a catalog of thoughts going back to 1999, people I'd been at one time and can now no longer relate to. Is this the same for everyone? I wonder. I'm 36 years old, and at certain times in my life,