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Over the past two days, I have shredded over 50 journals and over the past 3 years I have either shredded or torched 300 + - dating back to 1987. It has included documenting of my own childhood, my young and mature adulthood, the memories of both of my parents and grandmother. I have shredded my children's childhood, my lost and/or avenging loves, the memories cherished people no longer with us. My mistakes, my successes, my woes and joys.
I looked at the multi coloured covers in my bin and thought ::: I've just thrown away a rainbow. No - I shredded a delusion and, just like any other rainbow, I didn't find any gold at either end.
