if I ever feel doubt I come here. read old stories and quickly remember. I remember all the joys and the tears. I remember all the lessons. the ones I always seem to tell ourselves we will never make again, yet they fade into the past. pain forgotten seems like it never took place. it’s hard to recall an emotion so dense that ailed your body. it’s like the smell of the memory remains, but with our capacity to forget, we also forget what we learned. or didn’t.

I have kept a collection of my emotions and experts from my life in little notebooks for ages and I have always found it a blessing to read any bits of them again. they are the only true story of my life that I know. when I read back on them, one thing that surprises me often, is how vivid the writing is, how clear the emotion. be it happiness, love, sorrow, yearning, screaming, the writings bring me close to what I thought, felt and remembered. even thought I carry a collection of memories with me, nothing can tell it like a written account from your own hand and heart, remind you where you have been.

these tales have infinite value in my life. their preciousness cannot be measured, and party I am assured, that not one who has never shared this experience can truly understand and see it’s mountain moving strength. because these are messages from myself to myself. messages of love. the most important kind of love.

today i come to here to remember my voice. remember who I am, heed to the tales. this is me!