![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
Another Country
Threw out my old Women's Almanacs from the early and mid-80s yesterday. It was a wrench. They have details of my life I'd forgotten, addresses of people I can't recall, mentions of places that have vanished completely. If I throw them out, that chunk of my life is gone forever. Well yes, it's gone anyway, isn't it? It's not like I'm throwing out the ticket to another country...
...and there's the thing. I've always confused time and space: the past feels like a place I can go back to with the right talismans in my hand. Those daybooks were passports of a sort. The only consolation is that I don't *really* want to go back to the 80s, when I was far more naive and clueless than someone in their thirties ought to be, hanging out with people I didn't much like because there was no one else to hang out with. So yes, farewell all those transient coworkers and roommates and friends. My social life is now much emptier than it was, but quality has replaced quantity, for which I must be grateful.
...and there's the thing. I've always confused time and space: the past feels like a place I can go back to with the right talismans in my hand. Those daybooks were passports of a sort. The only consolation is that I don't *really* want to go back to the 80s, when I was far more naive and clueless than someone in their thirties ought to be, hanging out with people I didn't much like because there was no one else to hang out with. So yes, farewell all those transient coworkers and roommates and friends. My social life is now much emptier than it was, but quality has replaced quantity, for which I must be grateful.