through the pages of herstory

Today while sitting at my desk deciding whether it would be more productive to pick my nose or scratch my butt, I decided I should do a little cleaning (probably less offensive to me and anyone else that may happen by). Disc cleaning that is. I needed to move some stuff around. I don’t keep things on my hard drive, but there were a couple little things of no consequence that were hangin out. I pulled out my little thumb drive to move them over when I started looking at what was on that drive’s docs folder already. Hhhhmmm I had forgotten a couple things. This is not my first writing rodeo. Before virtual write-ality there was the mighty pen. And, I’ve done the whole myspace thing (you have a blog space there) –still have a page, I don’t really like that whole thing and got a jolting reminder why today (maybe more on that later… maybe), that used to house my writing. Some of my best stuff was penned (huh?) on the blog of my first myspace alter-ego. I’ve long since pulled it down, put it away in the archives. Then there is stuff on the current version of myspace-me that lurks about as well. I’ve now archived that, but haven’t quite come to deleting the page. I have serious misgivings about keeping it, but haven’t dumped it yet. Anyhow, I started reading. I sat back and re-read four years worth of writing. Damn… there’s some deep shit in there; love, friendship, loss of love and friendship, heart-ache- the kind you get from love lost and the acute pain that can only come when you lose a friend but they aren’t really gone, triumph, fear, pain, grief over loved ones gone too soon, tragedy, humor, stupidity and occasionally something really profound. Funny too, that the timing ebbed and flowed, much like now, depending on what I had going and where and with whom. I like think I have evolved into somewhat better of a writer, at least to a degree. Some things never change though. My propensity for self destruction at the hands of over-doing or that people continue to take things personally regardless of any preface I might make. No matter the content, it’s nice to have a history, a journal to look back on that reminds me of the whats and wheres and sometimes the whys. The major difference between the blogs on myspace and my writing now is a greater sense of anonymity. The names are changed to protect those innocent or not so much, no photos of faces- friendly or otherwise, grace my page and I don’t post cheesy shit like the “I never list”. (Though it is fun, I recommend it and have it if you want it :) I do, however punk people out, rant about insane and inane shit, laugh at myself, laugh at others, cry over loss and fear and celebrate triumph. All of this and more. There are things I wish I hadn’t seen, memories I didn’t want to bring forward and a moment where tears came without warning. Still, delete is not an option, it should never be an option. Our past shapes us is ways immeasurable. The adage is if we don’t learn from it we are doomed to repeat it, well I was reminded of things that never bear repeating… mistakes that don’t need to be remade. I was also reminded of a positive outlook toward a future unknown, then still unseen. My future is yet a blur before me, but I don’t go toward it gingerly or with hesitation. I look at it with pen (or, er, keyboard) in hand and words to be put on the page. There is no blur and I am certain I have much love in my life, that I am cared for and wanted. Its not a bad way to round out a year that started with unease… with certainty and comfort.