Truth and secrets

 As I compose these blogs I keep a pad of paper handy. I will often go to the internet to verify some fact or look something up. I will then scribble that on the pad. As a result I now have several pads full of these notes, thoughts and musings. For some reason I don't throw them away when they become full. I am nearing the end of another pad and began thinking about that. That thought lead me to thinking about my sister. She always kept a journal. She told me about that habit of hers, but she always threw her journal away when the pages were filled. I asked her why and her response was simple enough. Having written the journal she was through with it. It had served its' intended purpose, the journal was written for herself. Of course I view that as a loss. I would certainly love to read her journal, to know what her thoughts were.
 Now, these blogs, are a sort of journal. A public journal one might say and hers was a private one. Are they so different? Yes, there is a fundamental difference I suppose, but I doubt my private journal would differ greatly from this public one, were I to keep one of those. Yes, there are private things I do not discuss in my blog, but if I had a private journal I wouldn't write those things in there either. They are private! You know it is like I always say, if you want to keep a secret, don't tell anyone! Same with private thoughts, if they are private, don't tell anyone. Seems basic enough to me.
 My sister choose to write hers and then discard them. The whole thing centers around one thing, what are your secrets? What are the things you do not want to share with anyone else. I know, they say you should never keep secrets from those you love. I don't agree with that in its' entirety. That statement needs to be quantified. Do not keep things that bother you secret, confide in someone and seek help with that. But, if you have thoughts and feelings that create no issues for you, and you don't want to share them, don't! You are entitled to keep your secrets. Of course the general feeling is, if someone wants to keep a secret it must be something bad. We want to know because we are afraid of what it might be. Our own guilt compels us to want to know! That's human nature. Also why we say, curiosity killed the cat.
 But I was wondering why I don't throw out those pads I kept notes on? I'm done with them. Why is it so difficult for me to part with them? Just seems a bit strange when I think about it. Am I becoming a hoarder? Nah, I'm only holding onto pads of paper. I'm thinking I will just trash them. They hold no value whatsoever. They are, after all, just a collection of random thoughts. Or are they? Could I somehow connect all those thoughts to form a single coherent story? We are the aggregate of our experiences aren't we? And our thoughts come from experience, from what we expect based on those experiences?  When we have no experience to compare with we say, I don't know what to expect. Perhaps those pads contain the footnotes to my story. Is that why the compulsion to save them? Maybe that is why my sister kept her journals, maybe they were her footnotes. I wish she had written the story. Well, whatever the case may be I'll keep writing these random thoughts and memories down and saving the footnotes. But know this, I have secrets. I'm good at keeping secrets but that is supposed to be a secret. Is it a secret now? Only if you believe it to be so, and that is the secret to secrets. Strangely if I write a secret down it is far more believable. That is what journals are all about though, the truth and secrets.