The voices made me do it!
Last night I had the sudden urge to read pages from a journal that I wrote 11 years ago.
Aside from the questionable prose style, and the pretentious critique of Jung, and the efforts to impress with words like “testudinal,” I barely recognised you. You were so fearless in the face of love and so utterly convinced that you had found the source of happiness.
I stayed up late into the night reading as though it was someone else’s story. And I had to remind myself that that girl was you. Is me.
It felt good to read my past. It’s given me a new perspective, a new vitality of spirit, a quickening of intuition, and a sharp intake of breath, like a pump from some strong bellows, to fan the tiny flame of my heart into a roaring fire.
I told you so.
Postcard: Ganesha waiting. Collage, white ink, grey felt pen.