i have kept a journal/diary since i was in 3rd grade. up until a few months ago, i had mountains of them, filled from beginning to end with loose pages stuffed in between and excepts pasted and tagged to the sheets. i documented every moment of my life from the good and encompassed all of the bad. i did not discriminate nor eliminate which topics i discussed. i wrote for the moment. whatever was on my mind was instantaneously scribbled in ink and packed away for storage. when i moved in june of this year, i was overwhelmed by the mounds of books that i had accumilated throughout the years. i flipped through page after page and laughed at the memories and cried through the tough times.
when i die, all these words that i felt were too sacred to share with others will be left for the discretion of someone who is not me to either share or purge. i decided that was not okay with me. those were all my private moments. feelings i did not feel safe to share with others and therefore, one evening i spent hour after hours shredding page after page, laughter and tears, young and old experiences and rid my apartment of all my journals.
"you shouldn't have done that, your going to regret it" people kept telling me. i will never regret it. i can not control when my life will end but i can control my legacy and therefore the words that people remember me by i want to be left in the words of my poetry. my poems outline my life as well but in a different way. this is what i feel safe sharing with the world and therefore remorse would only have existed had i not taken the reins of my death and let my memory be mine. my art and my writing are the tools for which God provided me to guide me through life and i hope that i leave inspiring footprints on those who come in contact with me because i know i am influenced tremendously by all that cross my path. even those that cause me pain. they make me appreciate the good. trust, i feel blessed for those beautiful souls that bring good to my life.