I find myself going through old words today, searching for myself in the mouldy cabinet where stacks of wire edged binders disintegrate with time. The pile of scrunched up paper gathers on the floor into a pryramid of discarded thoughts that have grown meaningless over the years. Sentences that once meant something now appear to crumble in my hands. Small spiders, grateful of my perusing, inch away like old friends who long to estrange themselves from me, to seek out another page perhaps.
Surely this is necessary, this disposal of myself. Not painful. Not sentimental. It must mean something to be able to cast everything I thought was valuable into the bin. After all I am a different person. What I thought or believed six, eight, ten years ago is not what I believe today. My words reveal that. But everything changes.
But what is there to write about anyway? My mind feels numb. My vision slightly stunted. I remember reading about a woman whose taste buds ceased to work. Everything she ate tasted like nothing. Cauliflower could have been chocolate and blue cheese might as well have been cardboard for all she could tell. I remember thinking how awful that must be. How much she was missing out.
It could be that these days are January days. That my hibernation is temporary. Whenever I was feeling down and when my father was alive and got an inkling of my mood, he would say, with a twinkle to his eye; someday you'll wake up singing. Of course he was right. I did wake up singing. Some days I do and then there are these days. The finding and casting out the old word days. The trying to come up with the new word days. Trying to replace the tired musty words that break even if only stole a glance at them. The stupid, stubborn scrawl words that refuse to budge. No singing for that.
Still it has to be said that rooting through pages of words makes you realise that everything in life passes one way or the other. I can see that now. I must have put down a million tears onto the pile of pages growing on the floor and a million laughs and two million worries and zillions of insights and resolutions and most of all I put down my dreams. I did. Like someone desperate to keep them alive.