I had client cancel on me, so here I am at Starbucks with forty minutes to kill.
I’m still reading the little book, Clear your Clutter with Feng Shui, and I got to the chapter about ridding yourself of old journals you don’t love or read anymore. I have 28 journals filled with nonsense taking up space in the back of my closet.
I can feel their presence behind my bedroom wall when I sleep. They have a negative pull on me, almost like a weight. So last night I made the bold decision to rid myself of them. It’s a lot harder than I thought. My journals are my one hoarding weakness – I can feel what it’s like to not want to abandon them. To throw them out is like throwing myself away, my memories and all that ever happened to me. But they need to go. I honestly don’t want or need them anymore.
I stayed up late last night reading my 1999 journal before gaining the courage to toss it. I was working three jobs at the time and my friends hated me. It’s some depressing shit. And I was also boy crazy. I had the journal for seven or eight months and had a new boy for each month – doting over every one until they bored me.
It just started pouring out. I mean huge, heavy inescapable drenching drops. I have my laptop and I’m wearing a short-sleeved polo shirt – not prepared for this!
I wrote in my 1999 journal that if you ask a homeless man if he could have anything in the world, what would it be? It would probably be something material. If you ask a rich man who has all he could ever want, if he could have anything what would it be, he would say something immaterial. You always want what you can’t have.
I just wanted to write that down before I forgot it. I threw the journal away. I feel a little lighter.
There’s a break in the downpour, I should make a break for it.