My thoughts are all mixed up. And right now, I wish they were cohesive. Definitely be easier. I wish sometimes I didn't stumble over my words, and could be direct. I try to, but I just can't do it now.
Did you ever think that a memory you had didn't really exist?
Sometimes I hold on so much to memories because I just need to know that it really happened. I'm not making this up. It is real. I didn't dream it.
That is why I write. Because if I write my impressions down after it happened; I know that it really did happen. And that someday, 5 years from now, 10 years from now, 20 years from now, when my memory of that event or day is fuzzy, I know it really did happen. That is why I like e-mails and letters too. I save them, so that when I start questioning my memories, (which I do) I know that they really happened. That people really felt that way. And for the most part...it makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside.
As Michael Scott would say...it is a win-win-win!