Journals: The Blogs of Yesteryear

In New York City for Thanksgiving, the only thing I can give thanks for is that Thanksgiving happens only once a year.

Don't get me wrong: I "love" seeing my family, and even though this holiday is ostensibly about how Pilgrims were saved from a wintery death by the Native Americans hospitality, only to brutally murder them and steal their land, I still enjoy it.

But, I hate the process; I endlessly end up with a burdening task; either mundane, painful or laborious. This time it's all three; as I have to spend the next three days going through my old stuff to prepare it for the lonely life of storage locker.

In any case, I did come across an old journal of mine (from about 2000-2005); and actually, I think in many ways I was a better writer; more poetic, more thoughtful, more literate. Going through it now, the most compelling parts are probably stuff I can't post online (too personal), but I'll pick one that I don't really understand. If you can explain it to me, I'll give you a shiny penny.

Broken up for readability:


If you squint and think of all the mistakes you never made but wish you had anyway, and all the people you meet and forget, you realize that it's not worth it to care about nothing when nothing can be something in the blinding stare of hindsight

and blindness can sometimes show the light that switches off in the night when people say goodnight but your eyes are the light that keeps you awake when the dreams are so far away.

My guess? It's a plea for Carpe diem. "Seize the day!" Go make mistakes because people you make them with will only drift out of your life after a short while anyway. Don't regret...

It seems to get more and more true as I get older, although sadly there's less and less opportunities for me to make mistakes...