music and room cleaning

The first CD I ever owned was "Pete Seeger's Greatest Hits" which most likely was given to me by my father. Yesterday while cleaning our my room, I revisited a few old CD's of mine including Pete Seeger's and Big Science by Laurie Anderson. It certainly brought back some memories. Anyway, while cleaning my room I made some good finds: a blue pen stolen from my mean science teacher, poetry from when I was 10, a little silk pouch of beautiful beads, a children's book that used to creep me out featuring a solitary bear. It strikes me how much of a pack rat I am. I'm really reluctant to throw away old doodles and school work, even though I know that I'll only look at it when I'm on my next cleaning purge. Then I'll have to read through all my papers and try my best to throw a few away. I have to keep reminding myself that I won't lose my memories or identity if I just throw a few things away! This seems to have been the theme of my two entires so far: desire to preserve memories. I promise thats not all I think about.

So I started this blog. I'm not entirely sure what I think of blogs, to be honest. The idea of posting my own personal thoughts to the public without knowing that it will actually be read seems odd. I mean, I used to write in my journals as if I was addressing a reader, but I eventually realized that it was defying my purpose. What I really wanted to do was capture some aspect of my life and mind for future reference, so I suppose that I'm doing this for the same reason, so I won't forget. On one hand, the internet is a perfectly valid way to preserve my own writing, but I'm apprehensive about the thought of making it all public without knowing who will read it. Not that I'm uncomfortable with people reading what I write, just that this feels a bit like talking to myself when a stranger may be in the next room, ear pressed against the door. See what I mean? Oh dear, there it is again. Maybe I'm just embarrassed at the thought of all of this. Talking about yourself to the infinite vacuum of the world wide web seems like a testament to our insignificance (which is always a good observation to end longwinded soliliquizing with). Anyway, to conlude this, if you are reading this, please comment. I promise I won't think you are creepy or anything, and I would love to hear from you.