written on the last pages of a blue and white covered journal made of recycled paper from india, with a free tibet sticker on the front.
the last two pages are blank for some reason and i write:
there is something to be said for keeping the past in the past
where there is no point to put a stamp:
thoiry, france
april 30, 2006
this journal was from when i just came to europe after being in the hospital, after i finished testifying against wendy’s murderers.
reading my own words and my frantic scrawl, i time traveled back to the raw pain and torment i was in back then. i remembered how it feels to be so desperate in desire for death to take me away from this world.
it was highly unpleasant, but like a CSI episode and i couldn’t turn away.
i don’t think i needed to go back there.
i think i pack up the journals and leave them alone.
i am upset.
these are times to say goodbye and move forward.
i want my husband, he makes everything better.
Possibly related posts: