That Time I Was Dense

After too many false starts I started rereading my journals. Besides the fact I have over eight hundred handwritten volumes; the early ones are not that interesting.

Do you know how many posts there are about "Your first post won't be very good" and "What would you say to your younger self?" I witnessed both. Writing was a reaction to therapists not caring and never listening.

That is another reason I have trouble maintaining relationships. The ones who were paid to care did not succeed at the basics of their position. It's not that I would not trust a coach. I have no previous success with anyone under that umbrella so seeking someone out- no matter how they distinguish what they do is different- they are paid to listen and make me feel better.

I shall never go to a prostitute for the same reason. I was not soliciting anyone as Monday night turned to Tuesday. I was out of work, had no leads and desolation felt the same in the twentieth century as it feels in the twenty-first.

An unfinished marble notebook from high school became my first volume. I wrote crazy small. My handwriting has angered middled aged women throughout my life.

I cannot make my penmanship any better. I also cannot explain why women of a certain age are offended by my handwriting and men don't mind. Neither do women under forty. Some resented me anyway and complaining about my penmanship- that is something that ten thousand hours has not improved.

Because my writing was small and dense it takes a lot time to read my notes. I have not embarked on a long distance reread in many years. Usually I note small items that meant little at the time and are significant now. Some relationships seem like they will become The Next Big Thing and end in anonymity.

Other people show up and are consistent for years. I have no idea how long it will take to read my entire archive. I wrote entries one at a time and they are read the same way.

When I fell behind there was fretting that I was "Behind in my writing." In rereads it does not matter and that regret seems silly. That is a project that will keep me occupied for a long time. You have to start somewhere.

If I had not written the earliest, mundane paragraphs I would not have broken new ground and cultivated ideas. At least I did not have a therapists contradicting everything I say and fearing I would "Go gay" because I was not interested in dating. Therapy was weird and a lateral move. Writing was and forever shall be forward motion. Cannot say what I shall write next.